


The Wolf's Calling

by ExperimentJ



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clan Lavellan Is Not Nice, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Levallan Not Inquisitor, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lavellan Family - Freeform, Past Attempted Suicide, References to Depression, Romance, Self-Harm, Solavellan Focused
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-07-01 00:36:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15763005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExperimentJ/pseuds/ExperimentJ
Summary: Ever since she was born, the clan hated her; her only solace was her family, the forest, and any wolf statues she came across. Along with her father, she was sent to the Conclave. Little did either of them know, this would change their life.





	1. The Start of it All

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I'm bad at summaries! Anyways, quick few things: I haven't written a fan fiction in YEARS! I'm trying to get myself back into it as a hobby. Chapters 1 and 2 will mainly have dialogue from the game and it's from memory, so apologies if some of it is wrong. Also skipped some cause I couldn't remember the words, ha! Chapter 3 is more original dialogue since that's where the focus on Solvellan Hell starts.
> 
> Any and all Elvish will be from https://lingojam.com/ElvenDAI

_Sul’ema ash…_

_Ma esem…_

_Mala!_

His eyes flew open wide, gasping for air. His ears were ringing loudly but he could make out the startled voices and the loud clanking of armor. It took a while for his old eyes to adjust to the dark lighting of...wherever he was but the first thing he noticed? His wrists were bound. Noticing this, his dark gray eyes scanned his surroundings and saw he was in a cellar. The bars to his cage was thrown open and a human man roughly grabbed his arm, pulling him up, and was shoved onto his knees in the middle of the room. Several men pointed their swords at him and he feared the end of his life but they did not advance any further. As he kneeled there, with his ears still ringing and a headache starting to form, he felt his left hand start to burn. Glancing at his hand, he managed to twist his wrist and opened his palm, noting the dark scar that was not there before.

A bright flash of green erupted from the scar. He let out a yell as hot pain shot through his entire arm and in that moment, the door in front of him was slammed open. Two human women came towards him; the redhead watched him cautiously as her companion, a raven haired warrior, circled him. He watched them both, keeping an eye on their body language. Not that he really could when the warrior was behind him.

His sharply pointed ear twitched when the warrior woman leaned down close and snarled, “Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now,” she walked back in front of him, “The conclave is destroyed! Everyone who was inside is dead!” Wait… what?

The woman turned towards him and said, “Except for you.” His heart sank at her words and his headache grew worse as the ringing in his ears got louder. Only he survived? But what about...no, she couldn't be…! He managed to look up at the two women and mournfully whispered, “What do you mean...dead…?” Instead of answering him, the warrior grabbed his left wrist, pulled roughly ( _and nearly ripping his shoulder out of its socket, thank you very much_ ), the flash of green erupting again. “Explain _this!_ ” she said, tossing his bound wrists back down. Wincing from the pain in his left palm ( _and his damned shoulder_ ), he looked up at her. “I can't,” he said.

That wasn't the answer she wanted. “What do you mean you _can't?!_ ” She yelled loudly, circling him again, trying to intimidate him. “I don't know what that is or how it got there!” “You’re lying!”

She grabbed the collar of his robes roughly, about to pull him up but the redhead finally stepped forward. She grabbed the warrior by her arm and pulled her off of him, “We need him, Cassandra!” He huffed a sigh, his head pounding heavily. He knew they thought him guilty of whatever happened, not that he remembers. But the only thing he cared about was… “I can’t believe all those people...dead.” The redhead looked at him, studying him, before asking, “Do you remember what happened? Before the explosion?”

Explosion..?! “I...remember running,” his brows furrowed as he fought his memories, “ _things_ were chasing me! And then...a woman.” “A woman?!” This seemed to get the redhead’s attention but why? “She reached out to me but then…” he tried to remember but he was drawing a blank. He let out a frustrated sigh, lowering his head. The warrior, now known to him as Cassandra, looked at her companion. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana,” she turned her sharp gaze to him, “ _I_ will take him to the rift.” Rift? The redhead, Leliana, nodded and left. Cassandra went over to him and kneeled, undoing the wooden lock from his wrists but they were still tied.

He looked at her, his greyed hair, out of its usual ponytail, framing his face, and asked, “What... _did_ happen?” She looked at him, taking in his sun-kissed skin, his face marked with a vine designed tattoo she’s seen on other Dalish Elves, though his was a sky blue. “It...will be easier to show you.” She helped him up and led him through the hall to stairs, which led out into a Chantry ( _which fascinated him that there was a **blasted dungeon** underneath_ ). The heavy, wooden doors were opened for her and he followed her out into the cold snow. A familiar flash of green blinded him, making him move his arms to shield his eyes. When the light dimmed, he lowered his arms, and the sight before him left him speechless.

“We call it the Breach, a massive rift that leads into the world of demons,” Cassandra said, turning to him, “it’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.” His throat felt dry as he asked, “An explosion can do that?” “This one did--” She continued talking, he knows she is, but the sudden buzzing pain going through his arm drew his attention from her. The scar cracked with the green light and _erupted_ , his arms forced towards the Breach. Hot searing pain engulfed his entire being, ripping a yell of pain from his throat and weakening his knees. He collapsed, cradling his burning arm to himself.

Movement caught his attention, noting Cassandra is now kneeling in front of him. “Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads, and it _is_ killing you!” She said. Well...that's not exactly good news. She continued to speak but he didn't hear her, his focus on the streaks of smokey green falling to the ground below. He could only think about his family. Were they alright? Could these rifts be opening where they are? Creators, he hoped they were safe. And what about her? He looked at Cassandra as he caught her saying how this _mark_ may be the key..? To doing what? But he didn't care… He had to find her…

Taking a deep breath, he said, “Alright,” catching the warrior by surprise. “Then…” she seemed almost hesitant to believe he was willing to help. He nodded to her, determined. “I’ll do whatever I can...whatever it takes,” he declared, agreeing to whatever Cassandra had wanted but also knowing that by agreeing, he could try and find her. Cassandra watched him, staring, before standing and roughly ( _this woman was going to snap him in half!_ ) pulling him up by the back of his robes. She led him out large gates, through a crowd of humans, who glared and sneered at him.

“Murderer!” “You’ve doomed us all!” “Knife-eared bastard!” “Heretic!” Cassandra glanced out to the people as she practically dragged him along, telling him how they blame him for the explosion, how the Conclave was their Divine’s, how it was a chance for peace between templars and mages... As they neared a bridge, large gates being opened, Cassandra said, “We lash out like the sky! But we must think beyond ourselves, as she did.” She walked out in front of him and pulled out a knife. Uh-oh…

She cut the ropes binding his wrists and he huffed a sigh of relief, for both having them free and not having a blade in his gut. “Come, it is not far,” Cassandra said as she started walking. He quickly followed her, glancing at the human priests as they prayed to their Maker.  “Where are you taking me?” he asked. She spared him a glance before looking ahead, “We must test your mark on something smaller.”

They neared the large gate and Cassandra called out for the guards to open them. He looked down the path, seeing destroyed carts and flames, corpses covered with snow then felt eyes on him and he looked up to see the warrior watching him. “Yes..?” She remained silent before answering, “What is your name..?” Well, he wasn't expecting _that._

He didn't bother trying to hide his surprise, “You want to know my name?” Cassandra let out a disgusted noise, annoyed at no immediate answers. “I would know the name of the Chantry’s prisoner,” she replied. Ah.

Sighing, he ripped a strip from his robes ( _they were pretty much ruined anyways_ ) and used it to tie his long hair back into a low ponytail. “Asmodeus Lavellan, First to the Keeper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how short it is! I did a few of these chapters on my phone!


	2. Eyes of a Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the Kudos for last chapter! Really put a smile on my face! And please let me know if anyone is out of character, I'm sometimes bad in keeping the personalities right.
> 
> Any and all Elvish will be from https://lingojam.com/ElvenDAI

Grabbing a lyrium potion, Solas downed it quickly ( _begrudgingly, of course_ ) as a new wave of demons poured out from the rift. He heard the child of stone, Varric Tethras, cock his crossbow to lock more bolts into its compartment. “This is getting ridiculous,” the dwarf grumbled before throwing caltrops in front of himself and letting arrows fly from ‘Bianca’. Solas was inclined to agree with the dwarf, quickly throwing barriers up around Varric and the human fighters with them. If only he hadn't been so weak upon first awakening!

He threw a blast of ice at a Shade when another ice spell shot pass him and hitting a Shade he hadn't seen behind him. Cassandra came charging, ramming her shield into another Shade and sinking her blade into it, and behind her was the Dalish man with the vallaslin of Elgah’nan. He looked like hell, he was panting heavily, almost wheezing, but he twirled his staff and threw spells of ice viciously at the demons until there were no more. The Dalish walked over ( _he looked ready to collapse_ ), staring at the sparking rift with a look of scholarly awe.

Solas quickly went over, grabbing his wrist ( _perhaps a little too roughly_ ) and shouting, “Quickly! Before come through!” He thrust the man’s palm to the rift and both it and the mark sparked aggressively as a stream of light connected them; he heard the Dalish let out a hiss of pain and tried to pull away, but he kept a tight grip on him until the rift closed harshly and the Dalish ripped his wrist free of his grip. He cradled his hand to himself, panting much heavier ( _and now he's sure that he is wheezing_ ), and managed to ask, “What did you do?” Sola's couldn't resist the small smirk as he replied, “ _I_ did nothing! The credit is yours.”

This caught the man by surprise and he looked at his palm in awe, before closing it into a fist. “At least this is good for something,” he said. Nodding, Solas replied, “I theorized your mark could close the rifts that have opened within the Breach’s wake and it seems I was correct.” Hearing this, Cassandra stepped forward, “So, it could also close the Breach itself..?” Looking at her, Solas replied, “Possibly,” before looking back at the Dalish and, folding his hands, said, “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

The Dalish frowned, tucking his head as he looked at his hand. That’s when Varric saw fit to speak up, “Good to know! And here I thought we’d be ass deep in demons forever.” The Dalish’s ears twitched as he looked at Varric in surprise and he received an amused smirk from the dwarf. “Varric Tethras! Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tag-along,” Varric said, looking at Cassandra and winking at her, which pulled a look of utter disgust from the warrior.

The Dalish was quiet for a heartbeat before asking, “Are...you with the Chantry? Or…” This drew a chuckle from Solas, “Was that a serious question?” Dusting his hands off, Varric sighed, “I’m a prisoner, just like you.” This made Cassandra speak up, “I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine! That is no longer needed…” Throwing his arms out, Varric exclaimed, “And yet here I am! Lucky for you,” lowering his arms, his face fell and practically sneered, “Considering current events.”

The Dalish cleared his throat quietly, seeming to notice the...animosity between the two. He then nodded to Varric and said, “Asmodeus Lavellan. Pleased to you, Varric.” Solas smiled thinly and said, “You may reconsider that, in time.” Varric gasped and placed a hand on his hairy chest, feigning hurt feelings, “Aww! I’m sure we’ll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles.”

 _That_ got Cassandra’s attention as she bristled and immediately stepped forward, saying, “ _Absolutely_ not!” Asmodeus took a small step away as Cassandra drew closer to Varric. “Your help is _appreciated_ , Varric, but--” Cassandra was saying but Varric interrupted her, “Have you _seen_ the valley lately, Seeker?! Your soldiers aren't in control anymore!” He then smiled at her and said, “You need me.” Cassandra scowled and turned away from him, letting out a disgusted noise.

Solas noticed how uncomfortable Asmodeus seemed and decided to speak up, “My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live!” He looked at Solas, seeming to relax from the other elf’s presence. “He means, ‘I kept your mark from killing you while you slept’,” Varric said. Asmodeus looked Solas over ( _of course the Dalish did_ ) before looking at him with a look of curiosity. “You seem to know a great deal about it all,” he said, which actually surprised him some. “Like you, Solas is an apostate,” Cassandra groused. Solas couldn't help the small smile as he said, “Technically, _all_ mages are now apostates, Cassandra,” which made the woman sneer.

Turning back to Asmodeus, Solas said, “I’ve learned much of the Fade from my travels. Beyond the experience of any _Circle_ mage.” He nodded, as if he actually agreed with his words. “I have come to offer whatever I can. If the Breach is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of origin,” Solas said. “And what will you do once this is all over?” Asmodeus asked. Huh…

“One hopes that those in power will remember who helped! And those that did not,” Solas said before turning to Cassandra. As Solas talked to Cassandra, Asmodeus looked to the nearby trees, scanning them, desperately hoping he could see her among them. Creators, he was worried sick about her. “Well, Bianca’s excited!” Varric’s voice startled the Dalish out of his thoughts and he saw how the three went over a small wall, where a path was.

Cassandra looked to him and huffed, “Why are you not moving?!” Asmodeus coughed a chuckle and quickly followed. “Ir abelas, my mind was...elsewhere,” Asmodeus said. Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him, a look of suspicion crossing her face. Varric cleared his throat as they descended down the path. “So, what were you thinking about?” he asked. Before Asmodeus could reply, Solas yelled out, “Demons ahead!” Varric grinned at the Dalish before looking at Cassandra and said, “Glad to have me now, Seeker?!” Which she ignored.

Asmodeus noticed a more powerful Shade among the two Wraiths and another, but weaker, Shade. He cast an ice spell at the Greater Shade, freezing it in place. “Cassandra! Take that demon out while I get the other and Solas and Varric get the Wraiths!” he ordered quickly. It was a relief that they listened ( _mostly Cassandra_ ). As Asmodeus twirled his staff, sparking with frost magic, he failed to notice the Greater Shade disappeared into the shadows and appearing behind him, until Solas yelled out, “Look out!”

Asmodeus turned and raised his staff to block the attack, but the demon’s claws managed to rip through his left shoulder. He yelled out as pain burned through him, dropping his staff and grabbing hold of his shoulder. Cassandra yelled loudly as she rushed the Greater Shade, bashing her shield into it. The weaker Shade saw this as the moment to attack Asmodeus but Solas threw up a barrier around him as Varric let bolts fly and embed into the Shade.

Once both demons were dealt with, Solas quickly went to Asmodeus’ side, carefully removing his hand to inspect the wound. “How is the wound?” Cassandra asked. Solas took out a poultice from his bag and began applying it quickly, “He is bleeding quickly! I would advise we find shelter so I can stop this bleeding with my magic!” No one had noticed, but Varric had gone looking for shelter ( _preferably one that **wasn't** burning to the ground_ ) and saw a small, open alcove. And was that a campfire and people there? He quickly returned to the others and said, “There’s a nice, little alcove we could hole up in and it looks like there’s people there.”

Cassandra looked at the dwarf in surprise, “There are survivors?!” “Let us move quickly then,” Solas said, helping Asmodeus up. Varric led them up where the alcove is but as they got closer, he noticed something, “Ah, shit.” “What is it?!” Cassandra snarled. Varric sighed as he brought Bianca into his arms. “Those aren't survivors,” he replied. Three Shade demons were up in the alcove. Varric aimed Bianca and sent a volley of arrows at the demons before Cassandra rushed them, bashing her shield into them.

Solas helped Asmodeus to sit against a tree before taking his staff and helping take care of the demons quickly. He didn't like how pale the Dalish was getting. They quickly dispatched the demons and got Asmodeus up to the alcove. Varric got a small fire going as Solas helped Asmodeus to the ground, propping him against the stone wall, while Cassandra kept a lookout.

Solas quickly started using his magic to get the bleeding to stop. He glanced at Asmodeus when he let out a quiet chuckle. “Ir abelas, my blood is thin and my illness does not help,” he said. That explains the wheezing… Solas remained quiet as he concentrated on healing him but glancing at him again, he noticed he kept twinging and gritting his teeth...so he decided to try and distract him.

“You are Dalish, but clearly away from your clan. Did they send you here?” Solas asked. He saw a dark look pass over Asmodeus’ face and he tensed at this. “What do you know of the Dalish?” Asmodeus asked, his already deep voice getting deeper. Solas watched him closely, cautiously, as he replied, “I’ve crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion.” To his surprise, the dark look on Asmodeus was quickly replaced with one of...sorrow? “We are of the same people, Solas,” he said.

He…was not expecting that. “The Dalish I met felt...differently,” Solas said. This made Varric let out a loud sigh and say, “Can't you elves play nice for once?” And to Solas' surprise, this made Asmodeus laugh loudly, “But then we wouldn't be elves if we got along!” Cassandra was fed up with all the talking because she stormed over and said, “Are you almost finish?! We must keep moving!” “Do you _want_ Frostie to pass out from blood loss, Seeker?” Varric asked. Asmodeus looked at Varric oddly and asked, “Frostie?” Which the dwarf just shrugged to and said, “All I’ve seen you throwing around has been nothing but a bunch of ice!” This made Cassandra scoff with disgust.

Sighing, Solas stood up and said, “I’ve managed to stop the bleeding but I would advise caution in putting too much strain on the wound.” Asmodeus nodded to his advice and stood, being careful as he stretched. “I’ll be careful. Ma serannas,” he said. Solas nodded to him and said, “Ane vhalla.” The party descended down and continued their way to the forward camp.

Asmodeus continued watching the trees when the mark decided it was time to crack and send hot fires of pain shooting through him. He hissed in pain and tried shaking it off. “That...didn't sound good,” Varric said. Huffing and flexing his fingers, Asmodeus said, “I’m fine.” He was getting tired of the delay. As they went up the steep slope, Varric decided to ask, “So, are you innocent?” Which got him a heavy ( _and very tired_ ) sigh from the Dalish. “I don't remember what happened,” he replied. “That’ll get you everytime, should of spun a story!” Varric said.

This got a scowl from Cassandra. “That’s what _you_ would have done!” she growled out at the dwarf, who then grinned and said, “It’s more believable! And less prone to premature execution.” “Oh, I don't know, amnesia sure has kept me alive so far,” Asmodeus said, grinning back at Varric. “Ha! I’m starting to like this elf! _He_ has a sense of humor!” Varric laughed, to which Solas just sighed.

They finally reached the top of the slope but immediately fell into combat as demons blocked them again; they were dealt with quickly. “I hope Leliana made it through all this,” Cassandra said, obviously concerned for her friend. “She's resourceful, Seeker,” Varric said, seeming to pity the warrior. “We shall see soon enough. We are almost there,” Solas said, as he followed the snow covered pathway.

Asmodeus was quiet as he followed them, frowning so deep that it showed his age. There has been no sign of her. Surely she would have found him by now! Could she really be..? _“They finally got what they wanted,”_ Asmodeus thought darkly.

He would have remained in his dark thoughts if the mark didn't suddenly start to spark. Another rift was in front of them, demons pouring out and the two guards trying to fight them off.

“Another rift!” Cassandra yelled. “We must seal it! Quickly!” Solas called out. “Someone help us!” the guards panicking.

There was too much noise, his head felt ready to split in two, the mark making every nerve in his body burn in agony and his shoulder felt like it had burst open. He didn't see the two Shade demons, he couldn't hear Cassandra screaming at him to get up ( _when had he collapsed to his knees?_ ), and he didn't notice the barrier Solas cast around him. All he knew was pain...physical and emotional...

Arrows came raining down onto the two demons that threatened his life. He stared at the arrows that hadn't hit the demons, staring at the familiar dyed bright green fletching. Those were _hers!!_ Solas ran over to Asmodeus to check on him, thinking his shoulder had reopened since he was holding it but after a quick inspection, he saw that it was fine. “Now, use the mark!” Solas urged him into action, snapping him out of whatever trance he was in. Asmodeus stood up and held his hand out to the rift, the mark connecting with it quickly.

This gave Solas the time to inspect the newcomer but her back was to him. She was definitely an elf, her pointed ears peeking from her hair, the wind whipping the black as night locks, which were pass her shoulders, and seemed to cover a good portion of the left side of her face from what he could tell. She wore dark leathers that were typical of a Dalish hunter but not an inch of skin was seeable, other than her fingers and feet.

Asmodeus closed the rift, wheezing as he breathed heavily but that did not stop him from quickly going to the woman and embracing her tightly. She was short, barely coming up to the man’s chin. “Fen’lin!!” Asmodeus cried out. This woman, Fen’lin, wiggled from the man’s embrace and started gesturing wildly with her hands, but she didn't say a word. “I know, I know. Ir abelas, ma esha’lin,” Asmodeus tried to console her but she just huffed ( _the only sound she's made_ ) and opened a small pouch on her hip, pulling out a vile with a yellow liquid. She nearly shoved it in his hands and stabbed him repeatedly with her finger against his chest. It only made him laugh before opening the vile and downing it quickly.

Cassandra marched over, glaring. “Who is this woman?!” she demanded. This approach made the young elf wrap a hand around one of the two daggers on her hips but Asmodeus held a hand to her. “Atisha,” he said before looking at Cassandra, “This is Fen’lin Lavellan, my daughter.” She turned towards them all finally and Solas' eyes widen slightly at the sight.

Not because of just how pale her skin truly was. Not because of the dark red vallaslin of Dirthamen. Not because of the large burn mark that covered half of the upper left side of her face nor the other scars amongst it.

It was her eyes. Sharp and golden, edged with black. Eyes of a hunter.

Eyes of a wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the short chapter. If anything, it shows not to start writing on your phone!


	3. Silent Agony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last one that was written on my phone. After chapter 4, I will be doing them on my computer.
> 
> Any and all Elvish will be from https://lingojam.com/ElvenDAI

She was curled up in a corner of the cabin, watching the human ‘healer’ and himself as they tried to stabilize her father, who was burning up. She mostly watched him, the obvious distrust in those eyes scrutinizing his every move, his every word.

She did not trust him… 

~*~ 

_“Your daughter?!” Cassandra exclaimed, quite loudly, but Asmodeus did not flinch and neither did the young Dalish, Fen’lin. “My youngest but yes, my daughter,” Asmodeus said. The Seeker seemed to bristle and she turned her angry gaze at the hunter, who returned her grip to a dagger._

_“Then_ she _can tell me what happened at the Conclave!” Cassandra yelled, determined to get her answers. “Even if she did know what happened, she wouldn't be able to tell you,” Asmodeus said, quite calmly, and that angered the Seeker more. “And why not?!” she growled, gritting her teeth, tired of these excuses and lies--_

_“She's voluntarily mute,” he replied. This gave the Seeker pause, his reply catching her off guard, “Voluntarily..?” “She has taken a vow of silence, devoting herself to Dirthamen, their god of secrets,” Solas said._

_He was not expecting the sudden fury in the young Dalish, catching him off guard as she knocked him on his back, kneeling over his chest and pointing the knocked arrow to his throat._

_“Fen’lin!” Asmodeus cried out, startled by his daughter's action. He heard a sword being drawn and tensed before getting between her and Cassandra, “Cassandra! Don't!” “Move aside!” Cassandra yelled._

_The Seeker’s actions got the nearby guards drawing their own weapons and Asmodeus started to internally panic. He looked at Varric, seeking his help, and the dwarf sighed and went up to the guards, “Alright, let’s take it easy there.”_

_Cassandra started yelling something to Asmodeus but Solas stopped paying attention. Instead, he remained focused on the woman on top of him. She was angry,_ furious _, her golden eyes glaring down at him._

_He kept his face as neutral as possible, though was being careful not to move his throat, the tip of the arrowhead dangerously close._ How typical of a Dalish…

_He glanced into her seething eyes and he noticed something; behind the fury, there was something else and it made him pause, cracking his neutral mask._

_That’s when he noticed just how tense she was; the bow and arrow trembling in her tight grip. “It’s okay, ma da’fen, Solas is no threat. He’s a hedge mage, nothing more,” Asmodeus said soothingly, gently lying a hand on his daughter's shoulder._

_Was it his words or the contact that made her finally relax? Either way, she lowered her bow, removing the arrow from his throat but she didn't move from above him. Instead, she stared down at him, seeming to be studying him and eventually she stood up._

_Solas sighed heavily, his back soaked thanks to the snow. He went to stand up but stopped when a slender, semi-gloved hand appeared in front of him. He glanced up at Fen’lin, now studying her, wondering her motives._

_Is she trying to make amends? Apologize? He could be petty, reject her outstretched hand…_

_He took her hand and she helped him up. “Ma serannas,” Solas said. Her nose scrunched up a bit before letting out a small huff of air then nodding before she walked off._

_Solas watched as Cassandra marched over to Fen'lin, Asmodeus quickly getting between them. He heard footsteps and he glanced down at Varric. “You okay there, Chuckles?” he asked._

_Solas looked back over to Fen’lin, who was getting quietly scolded at by her father, and Cassandra was barking orders at the nearby guards. “Thank you but yes, I’m quite alright,” he finally replied. “If you're sure,” the dwarf said before he went up to Fen’lin, introducing himself to her rather cheerfully._

_He watched her, noticing how non hostile she was with Varric. She watched Cassandra with caution but she wasn't overly hostile; but with him, with his words…becoming violent at believing she had taken a vow of silence in devotion to Dirthamen. But it seems she hadn’t and yet she’s mute by choice…_

Why?

~*~

Solas brought back to reality when Anan lot out a loud sigh as he stood up straight and stretched his stiff back out. “That’s all I can do for the old fella, all up to him now,” the human said gruffly before turning towards Fen’lin, who still remained in the corner, “Now what about her? She wasn’t letting me or anyone check her over.”

This made the ancient elf sigh. He knew just how stubborn she was being as she had also refused any attempt on his part to check for any injuries, especially after that Pride Demon had slammed her into a stonewall. Granted, ever since Asmodeus passed out after attempting to close the Breach, Fen’lin’s refused to leave his side… she must be worried sick about him. “Do not worry, I’ll be sure she’s taken care of,” Solas said. Anan only grunted before he left the cabin, closing the door behind him. Now he was alone with her, unconscious accompany notwithstanding.

She looked utterly exhausted; Asmodeus had told them that he had her stay far from the Conclave, for worry of any humans finding her. So for three days, she was defending herself against any demons she may had crossed paths with on her own…

Solas kneeled in front of her, amused that she hasn’t reacted yet. Either she was truly that tired or she was so deep in thought that she hasn’t registered he was in front of her. “Are you hungry, da’len?” he asked and his question made her jump.

Fen’lin’s eyes snapped back into focus and she looked at him wide eyed; she was now tense, watching him warily. She truly looked like a wolf backed into a corner, so much that it almost amused him. Back when he was younger, hot blooded and cocky, he would have enjoyed her…

Best not to think down that road…

“Do I frighten you, da’len?” Solas asked. He saw how she tensed further at the question but her eyes hardened and she sat up a little straighter, as if to tell him that he was being ridiculous to think that she was frightened by him. It put a small smile on his lips.

Fe’lin blinked, her golden gaze looking him over with confusion in them. Has she never interacted with anyone outside of her clan? Solas was brought out of his thoughts when he heard wheezing coming from behind. Asmodeus…

Fen’lin went to get up but stopped, staring at Solas before trying to practically merge herself into the corner, and glared at him. Her eyes practically screamed ‘how dare you be in my way’! Before he could stand to move out of her way, a vile with the same yellow liquid as before was in his face. “This is the same from before. It is medicine?” Solas asked and his only answer was an annoyed huff, before the vile was shoved into his hands.

She pointed at the vile than pointed to Asmodeus; she must want him to give it to her father. Solas stood up, cringing at his knees popping from kneeling so long, and went over to him. Carefully, he opened the vile and worked Asmodeus’ jaw to open his mouth before he slowly poured the liquid down his throat.

Making sure that he had swallowed it, he put the cork back and gave it back to Fen’lin. He went to ask her again to see if she was hungry when her stomach gave him the answer, loudly, and the poor woman turned an interesting shade of red.

Solas chuckled, which earned him an embarrassed glare from Fen’lin, and said, “I see my earlier question has been answered,” and he held out his hand to her. This seemed to throw her off, she was now just stared at his hand in confusion. “Come, let us go get some food,” he said.

He watched as she frowned and glanced over at her father, still worried about him. “There is nothing else we can do for him, he must rest, and I’m sure he would want for you to take care of yourself,” Solas said. 

Fen’lin looked up at him before looking at his outstretched hand. She was hesitating and he was starting to feel ridiculous just standing there with his hand out; but before he could withdraw it, she finally took hold of it.

Solas honestly didn't think Fen’lin would take his offered hand, so it surprised him when she did. When she stood up, only reaching up to his collarbone (he was at least a couple inches taller than Asmodeus), he smiled a bit at her before letting her hand go.

He gestured toward the door and led her outside. She tensed next to him when she saw the humans turn towards them. She looked ready to bolt… or shoot them with arrows… “Ignore them, da’len,” Solas whispered quietly to her, which made her glance at him. But she sighed quietly (just a puff of air) and nodded. Smiling calmly, Solas led Fen’lin to the tavern.

When he opened the door, she jumped at all the noise that came pouring out. The talking, the laughter, the bard’s music; it seemed to overwhelm her. “Chuckles! Come and have a seat!” a familiar voice called out to him.

Varric… Perhaps that _was_ a good thing, for Fen’lin at least. She seemed to have been less tense with him before. He was, after all, the only one who managed to convince her to let someone carry her father back to Haven. 

Solas led Fen’lin through the crowd, waving over to Flissa for two meals, before sitting at Varric’s table. “Hey! You managed to get Stabby separated from Frostie! Good job, Chuckles,” Varric grinned behind his tankard. Solas only sighed as he sat across from the dwarf but Fen’lin stopped and frowned at Varric, confusion in her eyes. “I assume he means you, da’len,” Solas said for her.

“Who else do you know that’s as stab happy as her? Especially with those daggers after saving your ass from that demon,” Varric chuckled, folding his hands across his hairy chest. Fen’lin only huffed quietly before she sat...with her legs folded up on the chair. Flissa came over, setting a plate of food in front of them both before walking off. Fen’lin hesitated a bit before she dug in. Good…

“So, how _is_ Frostie doing?” Varric asked, generally concerned for the mage. “He has a fever, breathing shallow, and quite pale but otherwise he is resting quietly,” Solas replied back. “Shit,” Varric sighed before looking at Fen’lin, “How about you, Stabby? You doing alright?” She shifted in her chair, uncomfortable by the sudden attention on her.

“She refused to allow Anan or myself to look at her,” Solas said for her, a hint of annoyance in his voice. How it irritated him that she refused to be seen by a healer. The way the demon had slammed her into that stonewall was sickeningly painful to see. Obviously, she doesn't have a broken back but she should still be checked.

Fen’lin huffed again, glancing at Solas with obvious annoyance at his insistence. “You really should get a healer to check you out, Stabby. You hit that stonewall pretty hard,” Varric said with concern. She was making a point not to look at either of them, finishing what she had left on her plate before going to stand up to leave.

“Da’le--” he suddenly had a hand over his mouth, cutting his words off. Solas glanced up at Fen’lin, one of his brows raised in question. She was glaring at him, clear irritation in those golden eyes, but she then let her hand drop from his mouth and left. “What was that about?” Varric said, clearly as confused as he was. Solas really didn't have an answer for him…

* * *

 

It was late into the night when something woke Solas from the Fade. Someone was banging on the door of the cabin he occupied...and was yelling loudly, “Andraste’s tits! Wake up, Chuckles!” It was Varric and he sounded frantic.

The urgency in his voice got Solas to the door quickly, opening it and nearly getting a fist into his gut. Before he could even ask what had the dwarf so panicked, his wrist was grabbed roughly by said dwarf and he was practically being dragged.

“Varric! What has you in such a panicked state?!” Solas asked but he got his question answered from what was in front of them. A mob… and they were in front of Asmodeus’ cabin; hundreds of humans screaming for the elf’s blood, wanting justice for their Divine. It was a cacophony of voices.

A sudden scream from a human man snapped Solas out of his shock and that’s when he saw her: Fen’lin, standing at the top of the small stairs that led to her father's cabin, her bow drawn out and knocking an arrow. Did she just shoot an arrow at someone?! 

“Someone call the soldiers! That Dalish heretic attacked us!” a human man cried out before yelling in shock as an arrow stabbed the ground in front of him.

Fen’lin looked furious, snarling so viciously that her teeth were showing. She looked like a wolf that was cornered by a larger predator. _“No... She is protecting a member of her pack,”_ Solas thought.

“What is going on here?!” Cassandra’s booming voice startled Solas out of his thoughts. She marched pass Varric and himself, soldiers behind her. The mob all looked relieved at the Seeker’s appearance and started all gathering around her.

“Seeker!” “That Dalish heretic attacked us!” “When will the Divine’s murderer face justice?!” They went on and on and Solas could care less. He quickly made his way through the humans to get to Fen’lin. “Da’len, are you alright?” Solas asked once he was closer.

Fen’lin just stood there, gripping her bow and the arrow tightly. Solas frowned, he didn't like how tense she was. Like when she had her weapon at him… He hesitated but Solas gently placed his hand on her shoulder. Fen’lin flinched violently away from him and aimed her bow at him once again. He raised his hands a bit, looking straight into her eyes, where he saw it again. “Atisha, Da’len,” Solas said softly but she snarled at him, ready to let the arrow go.

Her eyes looked clouded, as if her mind was somewhere else. She was probably reliving a similar event from the past and her mind was trapped there.

Solas took slow, careful steps towards her, keeping his hands up. “Fen’lin,” she flinched when he said her name, “wherever you think you are,” he took another step, “whatever you are reliving,” he reached a hand out to her, “you are not there,” he gently placed his hand on her wrist, “you are in Haven.”

Slowly, he saw the cloud lift from her eyes and she blinked in confusion. Fen’lin looked up at him, stared at him… before she collapsed into tears. 

Solas was not expecting the sudden reaction from her but he quickly kneeled down beside her and wrapped her in his arms without a thought. Fen’lin buried herself against him, curling up as she trembled and silently cried, neither of them noticing that the mob had been dispersed.

Something ( _or someone_ ) has hurt this young woman, left its mark deep on her soul, enough to make her silence her voice and to fall back into memories.

Footsteps were approaching them and he looked up to see two soldiers station themselves in front of Asmodeus’ cabin. “They will stand guard and protect Asmodeus from anyone with ill intent,” Cassandra said as she walked up to them, Varric beside her.

“How’s Stabby?” Varric asked. Solas looked down at Fen’lin. The tears had stopped and she wasn't trembling anymore, but she looked...tired. “She is drained,” Solas replied as he stood up with her, keeping her shielded in his arms, “I will bring her to my cabin and make sure she rests.”

 

Before Varric or Cassandra could say anything, Fen’lin gently pulled herself out of his arms and shook her head before she turned towards her father’s cabin and headed towards it. “Da’len,” Solas whispered, frowning. Fen’lin stopped and looked back at him, giving him a weak glare before she turned away and went into the cabin.

* * *

 

Fen’lin sighed as she leaned against the door of the cabin. She was so exhausted: physically, mentally…

Emotionally… 

She went over to the furs she had laid out for herself before those _shem_ tried attacking her father and herself. She looked at her father and he was resting peacefully, despite the occasional twitch when that...thing on his hand sparked but he didn't seem to be in pain.

Fen’lin sat amongst the furs and unfastened the buckles on her right arm to loosen the leathers. She stared at the many scars, old and new, before pulling a small hunting knife out of a hidden compartment on her thigh.


	4. Inquisition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all Elvish will be from https://lingojam.com/ElvenDAI

_Fen’lin was far from camp. She didn't sleep in the Araval with her big brothers. No, she slept next to the stature of Fen’harel that stayed far from camp; farther than other clans._

_It was fine by her, keeps her away from the adults and other children. Her father and Dirth encouraged her independence, while her mother and Falon would prefer she stay close by as she was only eight._

_She was reluctantly on her way back, picking herbs for her mother, when she heard a whimper. The noise made her stop, straining her ears to see if she could hear it again. Instead of the whimper, the bushes to her left rustled and she grabbed her dagger, waiting for whoev---_

_A wolf pup came stumbling out…_

_Fen’lin blinked in surprise at seeing it, more so by the blood on its paws. The pup saw her and let out a growl of warning._

_She put her dagger away and kneeled, making the pup bristle and growl louder. She rustled through a pouch and pulled out some dried meat, which got the pup’s attention. Fen’lin smiled at it before holding the dried meat out, “Here.”_

_The pup jumped when she gently tossed it. He (from what she can tell) hesitated at first but quickly scarfed the dried meat down._

_“I wonder where your mamae is, da’falon,” Fen’lin said. The pup’s ears twitched and he whimpered up at her, making her frown, before he ran back into the bushes._

_"Melena!” Fen’lin called out and quickly followed him. But it didn't take her long to find the pup… as well as the body of his mother and siblings._

_There were arrows pierced into them and deep cuts from blades. It was a slaughter and this pup was the only one to survive. “Oh...ir abelas, da’falon,” Fen’lin whispered sadly. The pup whined as he nudged his nose against his mother’s unmoving paw. This was breaking her heart…_

_She went over to the pup and ran her fingers softly through his fur, “They are gone, da’falon, but they are free from this hurtful world.” There wasn't anything she could do for his family but maybe…_

~*~

Solas was flipping a page from the tome he was reading when a knock at the door of his cabin drew his attention. He stood from the chair and to the door, “Hello, Fen’lin.”

The last two days she’s been coming to him and just...staying by his side. She would sit nearby the desk and either make arrows, clean her bow, or clean and sharpen her daggers. He wasn't bothered by her presence, just...surprised and confused.

Fen’lin nodded to him, holding plenty of parchment. She pointed to the quill and ink on his desk before looking at him with a question in her eyes. “Writing a letter? Go ahead,” Solas said, moving out of her way.

She nodded her thanks to him before going over… and sitting on the ground _with_ the quill and ink jar. Solas stood there for a moment before he closed the door and sat back in his chair, going back to read the tome but he found himself curious as he watched her start writing.

“Are you writing to your clan?” Solas asked. Fen’lin stopped and glanced up at him before taking a different piece of parchment and writing something down quickly before she handed to him.

“Your mother… Asmodeus’ bonded, I presume,” he said which Fen’lin nodded in confirmation, “I see… He also mentioned you were his youngest. You have siblings?”

He blinked when Fen’lin snatched the parchment out of his hand and wrote more down before handing it back to him. “Brothers, Falon and Dirth,” he raised a brow at the names before a thought struck him and he had to ask, “Were they named after Falon’din and Dirthamen?” Fen’lin nodded again as she went back to writing her letter. So, they were probably twins…

“And what of you? Did your parents have any special reasoning for naming you ‘wolf blood’?” His question made Fen’lin freeze completely still. Solas has been curious about her ever since he saw it in her eyes…

“Because of your eyes, perhaps. I’ve noticed how similar they are to a wolf,” he stated. She flinched and frowned, looking in the opposite direction of him. Was she ashamed of them? Considering what the Dalish believed, it wouldn’t surprise him. Before he could say more, she grabbed the abandoned parchment he left on his desk and started writing quickly.

Was her hand shaking? The parchment trembled when she handed it to him. “Your mother enjoys symbolism?” Why would this make her hands tremble? This only confused him more and slightly frustrated by her vague answer.

Solas glanced at her as she went back to her letter, slightly turned away from him. His questions would have to wait another time, she was done.

* * *

 

It was hot… no, his _arm_ was hot… from the mark?

Asmodeus flinched as he stirred awake, groaning in exhaustion. Creators, what happened..? He remembers the Rifts, the Breach. The Pride Demon. Trying to close the Breach and the blinding pain that had engulfed him before he collapsed.

A door opening brought him out of his thoughts. Looking in the direction if the noise, he saw a young elven woman with a small box coming in. Slowly, Asmodeus sat up but he jumped when the woman gasped and dropped the box, “O-oh! I-I didn't know you was awake, I swear!”

“Ir abelas, I didn't mean to startle,” he said. But that seemed to make her more nervous as she began to wring her hands. “I-I said that wrong, didn't I,” she stated, mostly to herself. Why was she afraid of him? “No, you’re fine, d--” he stopped talking as she collapsed to her knees...and bowed to him!

“Please forgive me! And ask for your blessing,” she looked up at him in nervousness and awe, “I am but a humble servant!” What...was going on? “Ah...where am I?”

The elven woman started standing back up, her legs trembling, “You are back in Haven, my lord.” Haven… “So, this is some type of prison,” Asmodeus stated, frowning, making the woman shift anxiously. “I-I don't know anything about that,” she said before glancing at his left hand, “They say you stopped the Breach from growing, just like the mark on your hand!”

At this, Asmodeus also looked at his hand. The scar looked less angry but still had cracks of green along it. He flinched when it suddenly sparked to life but instead of searing hot pain, it was only an unpleasant tingling sensation. “So, we’re safe,” he sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as tension left him.

“Th-that’s what they say,” the woman started shuffling back towards the door, “Lady Cassandra will want to know you’ve waken, she said at once!” Asmodeus stood from the bed, stretching, and asked, “And where is she?”

The poor woman's eyes went wide as she turned red, “I-in the Chantry w-with the Lord Chancellor. A-at once, she said!” He blinked as he watched her take off out the door like a scared halla; he didn’t think he was _that_ intimidating. Taller than most elves but that’s about it…

He was going to follow her example and exit the cabin when he finally realized he had boots on…and he was wearing different clothes. Looking down at himself, Asmodeus balked in horror at the sight before him. Creators, what was he wearing?! He needed to change… _now!_ He saw Fen’lin’s pack and searched through it for the extra clothing they had brought with them.

Where was she? Was she okay? He remembers watching in horror as the Pride Demon had slammed her against the stone wall and she slumped to the ground. Creators praise Solas for checking on her for him since he had two Shade demons that would _not_ leave him be! Of course, next thing he knew she was on the Pride Demon’s back with her daggers, stabbing them wherever they would sink into flesh. She was so reckless sometimes... Aha! There’s the simple, but elegant, green tunic that his beloved had woven him all those years ago! Now where were those pants?

* * *

 

Solas looked up from the tome once he started to hear excited murmuring coming from outside the cabin; Fen’lin must have noticed as well, as she stopped tying her rolled up letters. The both of them listened intently to figure out what had the humans so excited. Something about “the herald” being awa---ah, Asmodeus. He’s finally woken up.

He saw how confused the young Dalish was; not a single one of the humans were using her father’s name. No, he was now “The Herald of Andraste” or simply “The Herald”. It was almost sad, how quickly these humans changed their opinion of Asmodeus, but he couldn’t help being amused. An Elven mage was being called The Herald of Andraste…

“It seems your father has finally regained consciousness,” Solas clarified for Fen’lin. He watched in bemusement as her eyes suddenly got wide and she stood up so fast that she ended up knocking over the ink container! She froze when she heard the clatter and looked over at the large black puddle forming. Thankfully, she was holding her letters, thus did not ruin them; that couldn’t be said for the rest of the parchment.

She looked torn between rushing out to her father and cleaning up the mess. Smiling, Solas closed the tome, setting it on the desk, and stood up from his chair. “Go on, da’len, I’ll clean this up,” he said. Fen’lin looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise before relief and gratitude quickly took over then she was out the door. With a rag in hand, Solas knelt to the floor to clean the spilt ink.

With any act of kindness he may have done for her, she always stops to look at him with such surprise; but why? Was it so strange to her that he would offer any sort of help? Was it because he was not Dalish? That would make the most sense to him, as any Dalish he has met before treated him with instant hostility. But to his astonishment (and constant confusion), he does not believe that’s the reason; he feels there is something else, something that had to do with that…

Eventually, he got the ink cleaned up and the rag put away, so he made his way outside. The amount of people that were gathered at the small stairs near his cabin momentarily surprised him; and it wasn’t just the stairs. There were people gathered everywhere, a cacophony of excited voices. From the looks of how eager they all are, Asmodeus hasn’t made it this way. So then, where was Fen’lin? He didn’t see her…

A bit of snow fell on Solas’ head, making the mage just about jump out of his skin from the sudden cold! Sweeping it off, he walked further out and looked up at the roof… and there was Fen’lin… on the roof. She must not have been able to get pass all the gathered humans and thought to find a different way from there. “I would hate to tell your father that you cracked your head from falling off of a roof after he’s just woken up,” Solas said up to her.

Fen’lin looked down at him, staring at him, before she shrugged. Solas couldn’t help but stare… she actually just shrugged, like she had not a care in the world if she fell and hurt herself. Was she mad in the head? “Da’len, come down from there before you truly do fall,” he said but his only answer was her looking away from him. And that irked him…

But just as fast that her ignoring had irked him, so did her suddenly slipping off the roof nearly give him a heart attack, but she landed in front of him with ease; she was actually rather... graceful. Fen’lin looked up at him and tilted her head to the side, a brow raised in question. Solas could only just stand there, staring at her, as he tried to mentally calm his speeding heart.

The sudden loud excited chattering startled the both of them. Fen’lin went and tried to get pass the humans, but was unable; there were far too many packed together. This instantly annoyed and frustrated her, if by the way her fists clenched at her side could be indicated. But there was a way to get around them…

Solas gently took her hand and led her around one of the cabins, and to the stairs that led to the Chantry next to the small inn but more importantly, pass the gathered humans. Fen’lin saw this and instantly took off, nearly throwing Solas off balance. But he couldn’t help the small smile; she’s been so worried about her father for the past three days that she didn’t know what to do with herself but she ended up taking that restless energy into making many arrows, sharpening her daggers, and hunting.

He descended the stairs and came around the corner just in time to see Fen’lin fling herself at Asmodeus, who caught her with a startled cry, but instantly held his daughter close to himself. The humans started whispering amongst themselves, wondering what kind of relationship this Dalish woman had with their Herald of Andraste, and it took a surprising amount of control for Solas to not snap at them.

It shouldn’t annoy him as much as it does that they had no idea that they were father and daughter, but with Varric’s ridiculous tales he’s been weaving to anyone who had asked him about The Herald’s actions against the demons and The Breach, he thought it would have been common knowledge by now! These “people” truly---

Solas was snapped out of his thoughts when Asmodeus suddenly laid a hand on his shoulder, a friendly and grateful smile gracing the man’s face. “Thank you for looking out for my _daughter_ , Solas. Ma Serannas, arani,” Asmodeus said, empathizing on “daughter”, most definitely for the ignorant humans. But his thanks completely threw Solas off; Asmodeus has not been like any Dalish that he’s met. There’s been no hostility, no suspicion, from him; even Fen’lin, if you don’t count their first meeting, has been more... open (well, so to speak) with him.

Noticing he’s been rather silent, Solas cleared his throat, “Please, do not thank me. Varric has also kept your daughter company; I have done nothing special.” But this only made Asmodeus shake his head, lowering his hand from his shoulder. “Believe me when I say that your actions has done more than you could think they did,” he said. And now Solas was very confused, letting the emotion show, but Asmodeus only laughed haughtily. Behind him, Solas saw Fen’lin roll her eyes at her father; this must be a common thing with Asmodeus for such a reaction from his own daughter. This was when the man seemed to finally notice all the humans gathered, watching this scene play out before them like a theatre, and the Dalish had enough sense to look embarrassed.

“I, ah, better go see Cassandra,” Asmodeus said before he quickly went up the stairs to the Chantry. With a sigh, Solas motioned for Fen’lin to follow him back to his cabin, up the stairs that led to it, after giving the humans a stern glare which got them all too finally scatter.

* * *

 

There were even more people at the Chantry! Creators, this was getting ridiculous. They all just kept staring at him with such awe that Asmodeus was now getting very uncomfortable. It was embarrassing enough that his reunion with Fen’lin and exchange with Solas had been watched with such a crowd! But it did not make his words any less true. Solas truly has no idea the impact he has had on Fen’lin by his decision to stay close by her side while he was unconscious. Don’t get him wrong, he was also very grateful from hearing that Varric had also kept by Fen’lin, but it was far different with another elf. But he was snapped out of his thoughts by the, very loud, voices behind the door he stood in front of.

“Have you gone completely mad?!” a loud male voice yelled from behind the door, “He should be taken to Val Royeaux immediately to be tried by… whomever becomes Divine!” Asmodeus recognized that voice belonging to Chancellor Roderick that he had met on the bridge. Probably a good thing Fen’lin did not follow him into the Chantry; she nearly got herself in trouble when she went to knock an arrow into her bow after the Chancellor tried ordering Cassandra to chain him (again) and have him executed.

“I do not believe he is guilty,” Cassandra replied firmly. This was news to him but hey, he’ll take it. “The _elf_ failed, Seeker. The Breach is still in the sky; for all you know he intended it this way!” The Chancellor said this with such fire, Asmodeus was half tempted to make sure he hadn’t been burnt! In any case, this seemed like a good time to go in. Dread Wolf help him…

Opening the door and walking in, he was greeted by two Templars standing on either side of him; Roderick stood by with a lovely sneer directed his way, “Chain him! I want him prepared for travel to the capital for trial!” The Templars stepped up closer to him (maybe he should have had Fen’lin with him) but Cassandra spoke up before they could do anything else, “Disregard that, and leave us.”

Asmodeus let out a sigh of relief as the Templars placed their arm across their armored chest then left. Roderick was less than happy by the glare he was sending at Cassandra but Asmodeus was quite grateful to the warrior. “You walk a dangerous line, Seeker,” Roderick sneered at her. Cassandra walked up to the Chancellor and gave back a sneer of her own, “The Breach is stable but it is still a threat. I will _not_ ignore it.” Personally, Asmodeus found her sneer far more threatening than the older human’s.

“I did everything I could to close the Breach and it almost killed me.” The look Roderick gave him was non to kind (shocker that) and neither were his words, “Yet you live! A convenient result, insofar as you’re concerned.” Asmodeus looked at the Chancellor as calmly as he could, his dark eyes darkening further. “The moment of my death, you would not hesitate to chain and execute my daughter for my supposed crime and Maker forbid, I do not wish to think what you would have had done with my wife and sons.”

Roderick straightened himself as he sneered at Asmodeus. “Your heretic daughter was with you, therefore she also is as responsible as you are! As for your wife and sons, they should also be tried and sentenced, depending on their involvement.” Asmodeus felt his fingers go cold as a spell was at the tip of his tongue; he will not let this man threaten his family! But he stopped when Cassandra stopped forward, pulling the Chancellor’s attention to her, “Have a care, Chancellor. The Breach is not the only threat we face.”

That’s when Leliana finally spoke up (and how did he not see her?), “Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others,” at this, she looked at Roderick, “or have allies who yet live.” The Chancellor seemed to realize what she was hinting at because he immediately bristled at her words, “ _I_ am a suspect?!” “You, and many others,” Leliana’s words were calm but there was bitterness in them. Asmodeus raised a brow when the Chancellor turned to him, glaring, and stated, “But _not_ the prisoner.”

“I heard the voices at the temple. The Divine called to him for help.” Ah, Asmodeus had almost forgotten that part. The Fade was truly fascinating but it was still a little much for him when he heard his own voice, as well as his own image appearing before them all. And for the life of him, he could not remember that at all! He was getting up there in his age, but Maker, his memory hadn’t been failing him yet.

“So his survival, that _thing_ on his hand, all a coincidence?” Roderick’s words snapped Asmodeus out of his thoughts. Oh, right, they were still discussing his suppose guilt. “Providence. The Maker sent him to us in our darkest hour,” Cassandra declared with such confidence that Asmodeus really wish there was a chair nearby so he could sit!

“You _really_ think the Maker would send someone like me?” Asmodeus was baffled at Cassandra’s words. Of all people, him? “The Maker does as He wills. It is not for me to say,” she replied to him but really, it just baffled him more. “You _just_ said—” he took a deep breath to calm himself, “Even if it means an elf, a _mage_ , is His Chosen?”

“Humans are not the only people with an interest in the fate of the world,” Cassandra answered him easily. He couldn’t really argue with _that_. “The Breach remains and your mark is still our only hope of closing it,” Leliana said, which made Asmodeus look at his marked hand, her words with absolute truth. “This is _not_ for you to decide,” Roderick just _had_ to keep annoying his already known opinion on the matter.

The sudden slam of a heavy book against the table made Asmodeus jump. “You know what this is, Chancellor,” Cassandra stated to the man and by the way he turned pale, he definitely knew, “A writ from the Divine, granting the authority to act.” Cassandra seemed to stand taller as she readily declared, “As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn!”

Asmodeus wasn’t sure what the meant but one thing he knew, _I’m getting too old for this._

* * *

 

He was exhausted from so much happening, which he felt he shouldn’t be having been unconscious for three days! Asmodeus just let himself lean against the walls of the Chantry and letting the cold air of the Frostback Mountains chill his face. He wasn’t sure how he should feel about his decision in staying with this Inquisition. On one hand, he wanted to help and he was the only one who could even close these Rifts, to even attempt to close the Breach itself. But on the other hand, he just wanted to go back to his wife and sons.

He frowned when a thought came to him. Fen’lin.

There’s no way the clan would welcome her back. The Keeper had wanted to send her by herself in the first place and Dirth was not wrong when he stated how she was sending Fen’lin to her death, all because of their ridiculous superstition.

That’s why he volunteered to go instead, wanting his youngest to stay with her mother and brothers but the Keeper fought him on it, not wanting her First to be sent to his own death. They argued back and forth before they agreed that the both of them would go, neither one happy with the decision.

Creators, how were they doing? Asmodeus feared leaving them, worried what the clan may do; Velara may be the clan’s herbalist now but she was once one of the hunters before the accident that left her with a weak leg. But he also knew Falon and Dirth would never let anything happen to their mother and would protect each other.

He smiled at the thought of his boys. Falon was quite the gifted mage, even more fascinated with the Fade than he was. Dirth was one of the strongest warriors in the clan, having chosen to wield a two-handed blade instead of a sword and shield. It was Velara’s idea to name them as such, finding it humorous, and the Keeper was ecstatic from the names. She believed it a sign from the clan’s devotion to the Elvhen Gods and their shunning of Fen’harel. Then—

“Frostie! I heard you were finally up and moving!” Varric snapped Asmodeus out of his memories as he approached him. He smiled down at the dwarf, “Varric, it’s good to see you again.” “Aw shucks, I’m touched,” placing a hand on his chest, Varric acted as if he was embarrassed before the dwarf urged the elf to follow him, “Come on, you must be starving!”

Huh, he completely forgot about food from all the… excitement. “Well, it _has_ been three days,” he said and Varric barked out with laughter. They went into the small inn and Asmodeus smiled at seeing Fen’lin already at a table, and with Solas at that. Varric led him to said table and sat in his chair, Asmodeus sitting next to his daughter after placing a kiss on the top of her head, much to the her ire as she gently swatted at him.

“So, da’fen, how do you feel about staying and helping the Inquisition?” His question made Fen’lin pause, confusion written on her face. “Shit, you’re actually staying,” Varric stated, now wondering about the elf’s sanity. “Without the mark, there would be no hope in closing the Breach,” Solas said before looking at Fen’lin, “But there is no need to put yourself in further danger.”

Fen’lin stared at Solas in annoyance and he returned her gaze coolly. “Solas,” Asmodeus saying his name was the only thing that made him break his gaze from her, looking at the Herald, “She will be an asset to the Inquisition.” Solas studied Asmodeus, trying to figure out his thinking. “Would she not be safer with your clan?” he asked but he was startled when Fen’lin slammed her hands onto the table and glared at him.

“No, she would not,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry how long this took! I forgot that I only had part of this chapter done on my phone. The rest had to be done on my computer.
> 
> Also, please let me know if anyone seems to be out of character. I do fear that I'm portraying someone incorrectly. And I'm also going to try to do less in-game dialogue because my gods, that is tedious! I'll also try to get a chapter out once a month.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and for any kudos or comments. They really make me smile!


	5. Despair's Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any Elven comes from https://lingojam.com/ElvenDAI  
> I have also posted some pictures of featuring Fen'lin and her family on https://twitter.com/Experiment100J

_“It has come to our attention that a member of our clan is being held captive by your Inquisition. He went to the Conclave only to observe the peace talks between your mages and Templars, and we find it highly unlikely that he intentionally violated your customs. If he has been charged with a crime, we would appreciate hearing of it. If not, it would ease our concerns to hear from him to know that he remains with the Inquisition of his own will._

_We await your reply,_

_Keeper Istimaethoriel Lavellan.”_

Asmodeus wasn’t sure how he felt: angry that the Keeper did not make any inquiry about Fen’lin or glad that she did not try to manipulate the Inquisition with her Dalish superstition. He hasn’t felt this unsure on how he felt in a very long time.

He leaned against the war table, staring down at the letter, listening on what each advisor had to say on what a response should be.

“My troops can deliver news of your safety and make it clear that the Inquisition should be taken seriously,” the Inquisition army’s commander, Cullen Rutherford said.

“Your people must be approached carefully. One of our elven scribes could deliver a message and share news of the Inquisition’s fair treatment,” the Inquisition’s ambassador, Josephine Montilyet, suggested after giving Cullen a look.

To which Leliana, who was the spymaster for the Inquisition, countered with, “The Dalish respect deeds, not words. Let my elven agents deliver something the clan needs as a show of good faith.”

And the only thing this was giving him was a headache.

They each had merit, though he was more wary with Cullen’s suggestion, for the sake of his wife and sons. His clan needed to be approached carefully, just as Josephine says, however…

“Leliana is right. You can promise them things until you’re blue in the face but unless you act on it, the Dalish will not trust easily,” Asmodeus finally says, pushing away from the table, “I would also like to send a letter to my bonded, along with Fen’lin’s letters.”

“Of course, I will get everything ready. Let me know when you are ready to have them sent,” Leliana said before handing him what seemed to be a report, “Scout Harding has sent word on her mission to the Hinterlands.”

He read through the report before nodding, “Alright. Cassandra, let Varric and Solas know we’ll be leaving for the Hinterlands in the morning. I’ll let Fen’lin know.”

“Speaking of her,” Cullen spoke up and Asomodeus wasn’t sure if he was going to like this, “I’ve had several of my troops reporting to me that she’s been seen going into the nearby woods. The more… suspicious men have been anxious on what her motivations are.”

Asmodeus smiled, shaking his head as he laughed softly, “Tell your men that she is doing nothing out of the ordinary. She is just being herself.”

After a few more decision making (sending an honor guard for the Divine’s wake, sending some of Cullen’s troops to “help” Lord whatshisname, sending a request to the Antivan Crows for Varric at Leliana’s suggestion), almost everyone left the war room. Asmodeus made to leave as well when Leliana spoke up, “Might I have a word with you, Herald?”

Stopping at the door, he looked back at her in surprise before going up to her. “What’s on your mind, Leliana?” She hesitated for a moment before she answered him, “There is another letter from your Keeper, regarding your daughter. I did not wish to bring it up in front of the others given its content.” She gave him the letter and Asmodeus felt dread fill him. “What does it say?” he asked her.

Leliana studied him for a moment and based on his body language, she could tell he did not want to read the letter himself. Given what his Keeper had written, she understood why. “I am sorry, but I think it is best that you read this in private.”

She made for the door but stopped when Asmodeus started to say, “Does it mention the—” she cut him off, “Yes.” She did not look back at him but she heard him inhale sharply and the room seemed to become colder. “Leliana, please, do not mention any of this… to anyone, especially to any elves,” he spoke softly.

Leliana kept her back to him, remaining silent, and he was close to begging when she finally spoke, “Your daughter has not given me any reason to distrust her. Your Keeper’s words sound like nothing more than pure speculation based on stories without any true evidence.” The amount of relief he felt at her words had him leaning against the wall, his old bones nearly giving out on him.

“Ma Serannas… thank you, Leliana.” She left without a word and he was grateful for it.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there but eventually he had to move, his back and knees protesting. He slipped the letter into a hidden compartment that Velara had sewn into his tunic, in case he ran into Fen’lin. He did not want her to know about this letter, that Leliana knew.

Asmodeus quickly made it back to the cabin he was given and was glad to see that Fen’lin was not there. Either she was out in the woods, as Cullen had told him, or she was with Solas or even Varric. It warmed his heart to see how quickly she’s taken to them, especially to their fellow elf.

With a heavy sigh, Asmodeus sat in the chair in front of the desk and took the letter out. He stared at it for a good while before he unraveled it.

As he read its words, the angrier he felt, until he became so angry that he knocked the chair to the floor as he stood up violently and threw a ball of ice into the cabin wall, yelling his rage, “Vishante kaffas!”

When his rage finally subsided, he cringed at the sight of the frozen wall. Maker’s breath, what was he thinking? If any Templars that were here noticed the use of magic, he would be a dead man, a herald to their prophetess or not! Well, too late now. At any rate, he should toss this cursed letter into the fireplace to be rid of it.

Once that was done, he decided he was going to write two letters: one to his beloved Velara and one to Keeper Deshanna, with some choice words. Asmodeus couldn’t help chuckling to himself as he thought, _“I don’t think I will ever have the right to lecture Dirth about his own temper again.”_

He stared at the blank piece of parchment, ready to write where the Keeper can shove her staff, but he thought of his family. He missed them dearly and he was positive Fen’lin missed them just as much. He smiled as he thought of an idea and quickly started writing his letter, not yet to the Keeper, but to his beloved Velara.

* * *

 

In the morning, they were ready to leave for the Hinterlands. The blacksmith, Harritt, had gone out of his way and made new gear for himself, as well as for Fen’lin; even asked if there were any specifications for the gear that they would prefer!

Asmodeus preferred to wear light armor with his robes, which wasn’t common for a mage, but it was because his father, back when Asmodeus was a boy, would tell him old stories of elvhen mage warriors and he became so enchanted with them, that he had adapted to it when he was older.

As for Fen’lin, she always wore dark leathers that covered everything, save for her fingers, toes and heels. Typically, it was closer in design to what the male hunters of the clan wore but it had similarities to female hunters.

Asmodeus had left Leliana with the letters from himself and Fen’lin before they finally started their journey to the Hinterlands, which should be about a six days walk.

They made good ground by the time it was time to set up camp for the night; Fen’lin went off on her own to hunt for game. “Are you sure it is wise to let her go off on her own?” Cassandra asked, though Asmodeus wasn’t sure if it was in concern for her or if she still did not fully trust her.

“You do remember how she picked those demons off with that bow of hers, right, Seeker? Stabby’ll be fine!” Varric tried reassuring Cassandra, but only got a scoff from the warrior. It still amused Asmodeus the nickname that the dwarf had given Fen’lin.

Eventually, they had camp set up and a fire going. While they waited for his daughter, Asmodeus made note of what the others were doing. Solas had taken a tome from his pack and began reading. Cassandra was busy with making sure her blade was clean and sharp. He didn’t see Varric until the dwarf sat next to him.

“So, Frostie, how’re you holding up? Between from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the army of the faithful; most would have spread that out over more than one day. I’m honestly surprised your head hadn’t decided to pop right off so it can walk away from this crazy shit!” Varric’s colorful description had Asmodeus laughing, as did Solas’ spoken quip, “How descriptive, Master Tethras.”

“I will admit that I still can’t believe how many people died,” Asmodeus admitted, a frown forming on his face. Varric sighed heavily next to him and agreed, “I hear you, Frostie. Three days we were stuck watching that damn thing get bigger, fighting demons, and Maker knows what else.”

“We are fortunate that the Maker had sent the Herald,” Cassandra spoke up once she had finished with her blade, “We would not have made it with our lives for much longer if you had not shown up when you did.”

Next to him, Asmodeus heard Varric mumble, “Even though you were probably ready to take his head right off,” and he had to fight back laughter. Thankfully, Fen’lin returned with four rabbits with arrows through the heart in her hands, before he got into any trouble with Cassan—oh, no, too late.

Solas was managing to drown out Cassandra’s verbal lashing to Asmodeus and Varric, intent on continuing to read, but he found his gaze leaving the pages to watch Fen’lin. She was focused on skinning the rabbits, using her canteen to wash away the blood; she wielded the hunting knife with ease.

Setting his tome down, Solas stood from his spot and to her side. “Would you like some assistance, da’len?” he asked her and she nearly dropped the knife as she jumped; she must have been in deep focus to not have heard his approach, “Ir abelas. I did not mean to startle.” Fen’lin made a soft noise of acknowledgement and went back to skinning.

He suspected she did not need, or more likely want, any help; she was, after all, still a Dalish. Solas went to go back to what he was doing when Fen’lin held a different hunting knife out to him. He stood there for a moment before he took it and sat beside her, to which she instantly tensed up but she handed him a rabbit before she went back to the one she was already working on.

With the both of them, they had them skinned, gutted, and now cooking over the open fire in a short amount of time. Fen’lin stood and motioned to Solas to follow her as she started walking off.

“Solas! She has my permission to fill you full of arrows if you try anything!” Asmodeus called out to him, his jest (or he hopes it was) catching the both of them off guard. Fen’lin turned around to give her father an awfully rude gesture; Solas could still hear Varric’s laughter as they walked further away but it wasn’t long until they came upon a stream.

Ah. To clean themselves up and the hunting knives. Yes, Asmodeus’ jest was undoubtedly unneeded.

Fen’lin did not hesitant to step into the stream to clean herself and her hunting knife, so Solas followed her example. Once clean, he went to return the extra hunting knife to her but to his surprise, she shook her head.

“I… do not understand,” Solas had to admit to her, her action making no sense to him without words.

Fen’lin huffed and pointed to the knife then to him. At still seeing the confusion on his face, she frowned and took off a small leather sheath from her belt. She took the hunting knife, secured it into the sheath, and held it out to him. Her gesture made him realize what she might be trying to suggest, “You wish for me to keep it.” A nod confirmed it for him.

Solas hesitated, confused on why she wanted him to keep it, “Why?”

His only answer was her rolling her eyes. She took hold of his hand and placed the sheathed blade into his palm, and to his surprise, she did not remove either hand. It’s how Solas noticed just how small Fen’lin’s hands were to his and looking at her, he saw how young she truly looked, barely into her adulthood.

Then how come her Vallaslin seemed older?

Fen’lin must have realized what she was doing because she suddenly let his hand go like he burnt her and stepped back. Unfortunately, she moved too fast and tripped backwards; on reflex, she grabbed hold of his arm but as he was not expecting it, it only ended up with the both of them falling into the water. Thankfully, the stream was not deep, so when he fell on top of her, she was not fully underwater.

“Fenedhis,” Solas hissed under his breath as he sat up, the water soaking into his robes, but that was the least of his problems. He immediately noticed that he was on top of her, a leg pressed between her thighs, her hands against his chest as she no doubt tried to keep from being crushed underneath him; if anyone came looking for them, they would immediately get the wrong impression.

Solas was too stunned to move and Fen’lin did not make any move to get out from under him either. She only stared up at him with eyes wide and he noticed that a blush was forming quickly across her face. At seeing this, Solas managed to regain himself and quickly removed himself from her. “Ir abelas, de’len, ane ma nuem?”

Fen’lin looked up at him, still blushing, and held her hand out to him. Being careful that they did not fall again, Solas helped her up and out of the stream. They were soaked to the bone, though Fen’lin seemed to be having it a bit worse as her hair was plastered to her face. Keeping any laughter down, Solas brushed her wet locks out of her eyes and behind her ears.

“There, now you can see,” Solas said gently to her.

Somehow, this made the young Dalish turn scarlet, all the way up to the tips of her ears; she ended up gesturing, rather wildly, towards where camp was set up and she quickly headed there. He was completely taken aback by her reaction…

And confused by his own action. He looked at the hunting knife she wanted him to keep, still in his hand (how he managed to keep hold of it during all that, he’ll never know), and a small smile graced his lips.

* * *

 

“Maker’s breath! What happened to you two?!” Varric couldn’t help but exclaim at seeing the two elves looking like drowned rats.

Well, more like Fen’lin looked like a drowned rat. Solas fit more to a drowned nug…

Fen’lin huffed loudly, grabbed her pack, and went into one of the tents. Asmodeus looked at Solas with a raised brow with a look that clearly screamed murderous-father-rampage. Solas cleared his throat, remaining calm, “Fen’lin lost her footing while we were cleaning up. She grabbed hold of me and we both ended up falling into the stream.”

“Uh-huh,” Asmodeus didn’t seem to believe Solas but he wasn’t going to stand around trying to explain himself, especially not in wet clothing! He grabbed his pack and went into a separate tent to change into dry clothes.

While drying himself off, he looked at the hunting knife he set on top of the wet clothing; it was a beautiful weapon. It looked to be made of obsidian and it looked to be sharp on both sides of the blade, it coming up to a dangerous point. The hilt was wrapped with leather that must have been dyed to get that dark green color and the tang was some type of bone material.

So why give this to him? Clearly she did not fully trust him, otherwise she would not continue to tense up every time he got near; then his treacherous mind reminded him how she held his hand in both of hers, the way she had blushed so prettily beneath him, how flustered she became from moving her hair—

 _“Enough! You are thinking like she is real, when she is nothing more than a shadow; no better than a Tranquil!”_ Solas quickly changed into dry clothes and grabbed the hunting knife, intending to return it to her…

Instead, he put it in his pack.

 _“You are weak; how do you expect to restore what you’ve destroyed if you cannot do even this much?”_ He was giving himself a headache.

He left the tent and was setting his wet clothes up to dry when he heard the other tent flap opening; Fen’lin stepped out and Solas took in what she now wore…

Brown leather wrappings that went up her neck under a long sleeved, deep green tunic which the bottom of it stopped above her midriff, showing the leather wrappings continued down. She also wore beige breeches that cut off at the knees, where the wrappings continued down and around the middle of her feet. He also noticed the wrappings were on her arms as well, from what little he can see from under the long sleeves, and it ended around her palms.

Fen’lin noticed his gaze and blushed once more; she tucked her head in, her hair falling into her face, and stood by his side as she hung her own wet clothes.

Once the wet clothes were hanging, they both sat near the fire, taking a cooked rabbit and began to eat. Apparently, this seemed like a good time for Varric to get to know Asmodeus and Fen’lin, “So, Frostie, I remember you saying how Stabby here was your youngest. You’ve got other kids?”

“Ha! I wouldn’t exactly call them that as they _are_ thirty years now but yes, I have two sons. Twins, in fact,” Asmodeus laughed at the shocked faces from Varric and Cassandra. “Your sons are thirty years?! Then…” Cassandra looked at Fen’lin, who froze at the sudden attention to her.

“Yes, Fen’lin was actually a surprise. We hadn’t planned on another child but she was a happy surprise for us,” Asmodeus smiled at his daughter, “And to answer your question, Fen’lin is recently twenty-two years.”

Now Solas was the one surprised; he had thought she was recently into her adulthood but to be this young…

“Shit, how old are you?!” Varric’s question had a hearty laugh erupt from Asmodeus. Cassandra, however, looked at aghast from the dwarf’s blunt way of asking, “Have you no sense of decency, dwarf?!” “I’m clothed, aren’t I?” he said and the Seeker made a disgusted noise.

“Creators, Varric… but to answer your question, I am fifty-eight years,” Asmodeus said without hesitation.

A stunned silence fell around them. “What?” he wasn’t sure why they were so surprised? “You… do not look your age,” Cassandra finally said, making Asmodeus chuckle. “At least mid to late forties!” Varric gave his thoughts.

“Nobody appears to be as they first seem,” Solas said to them, which they collectively agreed on.

With a meal in their bellies, it was time to turn in. Asmodeus and Fen’lin would be sharing a tent, while Cassandra had her own, which left Varric and Solas to share a tent; they agreed that Cassandra would take first watch.

* * *

 

There were few intriguing memories in this area, maybe a secret or two found, but perhaps it was because of this that he noticed Despair. It was a ripple in the Fade, so he followed it; he did not expect to come upon the familiar feeling of a dream. As Cassandra has first watch and dwarves do not dream, this belonged to either Asmodeus or Fen’lin. Solas would have to keep his presence hidden while viewing this dream.

As he entered, he was created by sunlight, trees, and grass.

_“They are gone, da’falon, but they are free from this hurtful world,” a young girl’s voice caught his attention. He followed where he heard the voice in this dream and he felt his chest tighten when he saw the elvhen girl, long midnight black hair pulled in a loose braid. Even from where he hid, he could see those eyes. He was in Fen’lin’s dream or more like a memory._

_A whimper came from beside her and that’s when Solas noticed the wolf pup beside her, as well as the corpses of a mother wolf and her pups. From his guess, the living pup was a survivor of this unfounded slaughter, but why was Fen’lin kneeling in the middle of it?_

Solas saw the young Fen’lin wipe at her eyes as she sniffled; was she crying? And to his surprise, she did not hesitate to gently run her fingers along the pup’s fur. “I can’t leave you but the clan will never let you stay,” she said.

Yes, a Dalish clan, with their stories and superstition, would never allow a _wolf_ to live with them. Suddenly, the child Fen’lin stood up with determination in her eyes and a smile to the pup, she boldly declared, “I’ll sneak you into mamae and babae’s aravel!” And without hesitation, picked the pup up and gently held it in her arms.

Solas could not believe this child was the same Fen’lin. There was such innocence in her eyes and she smiled with a brilliance; then she did something he did _not_ expect. She faced the sad scene and said, “I’m sorry for not burying them, Fen’harel but I need help. I’ll come back with babae and my big brothers!”

He felt like somebody had punched him in the gut.

She had apologized… with no fear in her voice. If anything, she talked like she’s known him all her young life. But how? Dalish children are taught to fear him, so why does she speak his name with such—

Solas quickly hid in the shadows of the trees as Fen’lin suddenly ran pass him and he followed her, but it did not take him long to find her again, hidden behind a tree as she watched the adults of her clan. A frown made its way to his face as he noticed how close the slaughtered wolves were to the clan.

Fen’lin suddenly moved, towards an aravel that was slightly further from the rest, and she quietly called out, “Babae come here.” A younger Asmodeus came out from the aravel and Solas saw his eyebrows raise in surprise, noticing the pup in her arms. “Fen’lin—” he started but the child quickly caught him off, “I know, babae, but his family was killed. He’s all by himself and he won’t survive on his own. Can’t we hide him in the aravel?”

Solas watched Asmodeus closely as he knelt in front of his daughter and was surprised when the man gently pet the pup on the head, a smile gracing his face. “Poor thing, he must be terrified. Let me go get your mother and brothers,” he said before standing and going into camp. Such happiness graced Fen’lin’s face and she smiled at the pup. “See? Babae is nothing like the others. He doesn’t believe the Dread Wolf is a scary monster that the tales try to make him out to be,” she happily said.

What?

But…how could this be? He was Dalish!

Two older boys came up to Fen’lin. Both had vallaslin; the one with snow white hair and green eyes had Falon’din’s in black, while the other with hair almost as dark as Fen’lin’s and blue eyes had Dirthamen’s in white. By the way Fen’lin smiled up at them, these two must be her brothers, Falon and Dirth.

Behind them, Asmodeus came up with a young woman holding onto his arm. Her hair was a light blonde and her eyes a darker green than (he presumes) Falon’s, her vallaslin belonging to Mythal, the gold branches framing the upper half of her face. He noticed she walked with a limp.

“Are you crazy, Fen’lin? Who knows what the Keeper’ll do if she finds out about this,” the one he presumes to be Dirth quietly scolded her and Fen’lin’s only response was to stick her tongue out at him, as most children her age would do. “Enough, Dirth. Your mother and Falon will take the pup into the aravel, while—”

“Have you lost your mind?!” a Dalish man yelled as he and several hunters came up to them. The man suddenly grabbed the pup by the scruff of the neck and roughly yanked him out of Fen’lin’s arm, the pup screaming in pain and distress. “No! Give him back!” she cried out but she was back handed by another hunter, knocking her to the ground.

Solas had to remind himself that this was a dream, a memory that has already happened; still, he felt his control on the verge of snapping.

Two hunters had grabbed hold of Dirth, who was screaming and swearing at the Dalish who dared to hurt his little sister. Falon and Asmodeus were being blocked by more hunters, and his bonded was now leaning against the aravel for support.

“I told you, Velara, that you should have drowned this harellan the moment she was born. Now, she dares bring a _wolf_ into the clan,” an older Dalish woman came up next to the hunter who held the struggling pup. “S-sathan, Keeper, he’s only a pup. His family was slaughtered,” Fen’lin begged as she remained on her knees, her lip busted open and bleeding. Was this how she got the scars on her lip?

“So, there was a survivor then,” the hunter confirmed Solas’ suspicion. The Keeper sighed as she turned away and Solas felt dread by her words, “You know what must be done.”

She walked away as the hunter with the pup pulled out a hunting knife and Solas felt bile raise into his throat. “NO!” Fen’lin screamed but she was unable to stop it.

“Dirthara ma, harellan,” the hunter spat before he tossed the corpse in front of her and left, the other hunters leaving as well, all going back to what they were doing. Fen’lin did not move, only stared at the pup’s corpse in horror as tears soaked her face.

Then the child let out an ear piercing scream of utter despair.

* * *

 

A sharp jerk to his shoulder woke Solas with such a start that he had a spell at the ready. A startled cry cleared the adrenaline from his head, which is when he noticed that Cassandra had her sword out.

“What in blazes are you doing, Solas?!” she yelled and her voice stirred a very tired dwarf. “Will you shut up, Seeker? And put that thing away before you hurt someone,” Varric grumbled from his bedroll. Cassandra scowled but sheathed her blade and glared at Solas. “It’s your watch,” she said before leaving for her own tent.

Solas sighed heavily and left the shared tent. The cold night air felt good against his heated face; he hadn’t realized how hot he had been until now. He gently stoked the embers in the fire pit before leaning his back heavily against the tree.

He could not stop himself from thinking of what he had witnessed; the innocence in Fen’lin, such happiness, only to be snuffed by a disgusting act. All because of mere superstition? No, it seemed much more than that. The way the Keeper had sneered the word “wolf”, this clan despised wolves. Which meant they had a deep fear and superstition of Fen’harel

_“You should have drowned this harellan the moment she was born.”_

Solas felt such _rage_ at just thinking of those words. How could a Keeper, not only tell this to a child’s mother, but to say it in _front_ of the child! To call her a trickster and to curse her—

Movement caught Solas’ attention and he sat up straight in alarm, but relaxed when he saw who it was. “Fen’lin,” he quietly called out to her.

Hearing someone say her name made her jump and drop her hunting knife. Why did she have that out? She quickly picked it up and hid it behind her, frowning at Solas. “I apoloze, Fen’lin. I did not mean to startle you,” he said and his words seem to relax her.

Fen’lin stood there, staring at him for a while before she finally moved and to his surprise, sat beside him. She curled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, lying her chin on her knees. She looked…

Absolutely miserable…

_“She blames herself for the pup’s death.”_

Before he could talk himself out of it, he wrapped an arm around her, and pulled her close. He felt her tense against him before she relaxed.

“Hamin, da’len. You will have no more nightmares.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide from his words; he then felt Fen’lin shifting and curling up against his side, her eyes closed shut. She then grabbed hold of his free hand and held it in her lap.

_“Somniar i atish.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloody hells, this chapter literally gave me a headache. Had to rewrite the blasted thing, twice! And I've learned this: I am horrible at figuring out Elven! Had to check several times on the Dragon Age wiki for the Elven language to get ideas along with what I already use!
> 
> But thanks for reading, commenting, and dropping a kudos!


	6. The Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the kudos! This chapter was a little rough. Deleted and rewrote so much... but I hope you enjoy the chapter! I also uploaded a couple more photos over on my twitter @Experiment100J
> 
> Any and all Elvish will be from https://lingojam.com/ElvenDAI

They got to the Crossroads just as rebel Templars attacked the small village. It was not hard for Asmodeus and Solas both to get their attention, being mages, but they kept them at a distance with their spells. Cassandra charged at them when her attempt to reason with the rebel Templars failed. Varric kept further in the back, firing bolts when a weak point presented itself, while Fen’lin took to the shadows with her daggers.

Whenever she got behind a Templar with his guard down, she would sink a blade into an open spot in the armor, then disappear back into the shadows for a new target. Before she could return back to the safety of shadows, a Templar with a tower shield suddenly rammed into her, knocking her to the ground, dazed.

“Fen’lin!” she heard her father call out to her. Bolts came flying and struck the Templar several times but they bounced off his armor and shield. “Eat dirt!” Varric yelled out, not truly aiming for a kill shot, as the only thing he cared about was to keep the Templar away from Fen’lin.

But the distraction was enough for her; she quickly rolled back to her feet, grabbing her fallen daggers, and stabbed them into his exposed neck. Unfortunately, when they finally took care of the last Templar, the apostate mages came.

For whatever reason, Solas tried reasoning with them, but surprise! They didn’t listen.

Switching back to her bow, Fen’lin took to higher ground, and rained arrows upon them. As a fireball came at her, she felt a strange feeling envelope around her and when the fireball hit, she felt nothing. That’s when she noticed it was a magical shield protecting her.

It wasn’t from her father, he didn’t specialize in spirit magic, which meant…

Fen’lin quickly flung a throwing knife at the apostate who had attacked her, the knife imbedding itself deep into his skull, then jumped back down to lower ground. She switched back to her daggers and joined Cassandra in close combat. She ducked from nearly getting clubbed in the head from a staff and from her position, she slashed the apostate across the stomach, nearly disemboweling him.

Fortunately, the apostates eventually fell and no one else appeared to continue the fight.

Fen’lin had to lean against a stone wall to catch her breath, placing a hand across a particularly long and deep scar under her jawline, feeling her pulse underneath it. She looked up when her father came to her side, checking her over for any serious injuries; other than the massive headache from that damn Templar as his shield had hit her in the forehead, where she has no doubt a spectacular bruise is already forming, she was fine.

Cassandra was ordering Inquisition soldiers around, gathering any wounded villagers to be treated, placing signs showing that the Crossroads were under Inquisition protection.

When her father was satisfied that she was alright, he left to find and talk to this Mother Giselle; Varric took over in checking up on her, “You alright, Stabby? You got hit by that Templar pretty hard.” She nodded her confirmation that she was alright to him before she turned her attention elsewhere. Which happened to be to Solas, who was helping one of the refugees.

She truly did not know what to make of him but one thing she knew: she could trust him.

During their travel to the Hinterlands, her father had asked Solas about his opinions on elven culture and he had no problems with showing how much he disliked the Dalish.

Her father was quite confused by the sudden hostility in his words. When he mentioned how the Dalish come from the elves who refused to surrender when the humans broke their treaty and destroyed the Dales, Solas’ words truly startled her.

 _“Your_ Keeper _was not wrong about_ that _, at least. We must mark the occasion of the Dalish remembering something correctly! Perhaps we should plant a tree.”_

The way Solas had sneered those words, mocking the Dalish… she knew she could trust him.

Of course, her father actually looked offended, which was not a very common thing since he was the kind of man to just laugh something off.

It got to the point that Varric and Cassandra were concerned that they were going to come to blows. Before that could happen, Fen’lin had stepped in between the two, giving her father a pointed look. Thankfully, it prompted him to apologize to Solas, who returned to being civil as well.

“If you keep staring at Chuckles like that, I’m pretty sure Papa Frostie is going to end up freezing him over.” Varric’s voice startled Fen’lin out of her thoughts and she looked at him in confusion. “Don’t act all confused on me, I see the way you look at him,” Varric grinned up at her, a look in his eyes that glittered like he was just told the biggest secret in Thedas.

But she truly did not know what he meant. What way is she looking? Varric saw how confused she was and he gave her a look of disbelief but before he could say anything about it, Solas had come up to them.

“Thankfully our arrival kept most of the refugees from further harm,” he said before he turned to her, “If you don’t mind, I would like to inspect your injury.”

Wait… what?

Before she could do anything, Solas placed his hands gently along her jawline and began to inspect where she was hit from that shield. His hands were slightly rough from wielding a staff but he was gentle, and his touch felt… nice.

At realizing where her thoughts were going, Fen’lin could feel her face becoming instantly warm. But she was trapped, all she could do was stand there, and she was going to kill Varric if he didn’t stop that snickering!

She nearly jumped out of her skin when Solas ran his thumb along the scar under her jawline, a frown marring his face. “This scar… it looks deliberate,” he said and his words immediately made her tense. Fen’lin grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands off her, but from the look in his eyes (how come she never noticed how beautiful they were?), he was already suspecting where it came from.

“Before we head back to Haven, I want to see what we can do for these refugees. Also, Scout Harding mentioned that Cullen wanted them to try to get horses from a Master Dennet, so we’ll check that out as well.”

At hearing her father speaking to Cassandra about their plans here, Fen’lin let Solas’ wrists go and he stepped back away from her, folding his arms behind his back.

But he kept staring at her.

* * *

 

Dread Wolf save her, of _course_ they would find a Dalish out here! And naturally, after saving her from one measly demon, her father spoke with her, but Fen’lin did not care. She wanted as far away from this Dalish mage as possible.

But it turns out that her father agreed to _help_ this Mihris with whatever in the nearby ruins!

Lovely…

Mihris led them to the entrance to the ruins but they were blocked by the broken pillars. “We need focused magical energy if we are to get by.” She looked at Solas, sized him up and said, “You, _flat-ear_. Can you do it?”

Before any of them could react, Fen’lin had one of her daggers pressed to Mihris’ throat. The Dalish froze as she stared at the younger elf, who snarled viciously at her; she felt paralyzed by the hate in her golden glare.

Asmodeus grabbed hold of Fen’lin’s wrist, forcing her to loosen her grip on her dagger so he could take it from her, and roughly pulled her away from Mihris. “Solas, make sure Mihris is alright while I talk with Fen’lin.”

He dragged Fen’lin away from the others then turned towards her. “What in the Creators’ name were you thinking, Fen’lin?! Why would you suddenly just attack her?!” He watched Fen’lin as she gestured towards Mihris then to Solas before flattening her ears against her head.

“You attacked her because she called Solas a flat-ear? _That’s_ —” Asmodeus pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down. “No, that is unacceptable, Fen’lin! You will apologize to her for your actions!” Before she could do anything, he took her back to the group, setting her in front of Mihris. “Apologize, esha’lan.”

Fen’lin glanced back at her father; he was watching her with a look of disappointment and this angered her. He, of all people, should understand her! So why was he condemning her now? She looked back at Mihris and noticed how the Dalish stood before her with an air of arrogance, looking at her as if she was a mere child!

Before she could talk herself out of it, Fen’lin spat at Mihris’ feet.

In the end, this rewarded her with her father turning her towards him and slapping her across the face.

They both stood there, shocked.

He has never raised his hand against her…

Fen’lin felt tears welling up in her eyes and before anyone could see her cry, she forcefully took her dagger back, and ran off. She could hear Solas and Varric call out to her but she ignored them.

All she wanted was to get as far away as possible.

She didn’t pay attention to where she went, her vision blurred by the tears that were now running free. But eventually, she had to stop running. She collapsed to her knees and silently wept.

She felt so betrayed. Like her own father picked the Dalish over his flesh and blood, even with knowing how much she _hated_ them. Admittedly, attacking that woman was definitely not her smartest idea but just hearing that disgusting word, directed at Solas, just because he did not wear awful Vallaslin…

She lost herself…

Fen’lin forcefully undid the buckles around her arms to open the leathers and without a second thought, took her hunting knife and started to violently cut into her scarred arms.

She was so angry. At the Dalish, at her father, at _herself!_

When she finally stopped, she cringed at the sight of her arms. This is why she makes sure she has plenty of poultice and bandages, just in case she got stupid. With practice ease, she had them taken care of, though she had to use extra bandages from how much she bled.

She was usually more careful then this but she let her anger get the best of her this time.

Once she had the leathers buckled back up (which dug painfully into her arms), she stood from where she sat and decided she needed to figure out where she was. She remembers running through the Crossroads as she had nearly ran into Inquisition soldiers, so she must be in the direction that the horsemaster was reported to be.

Well, at least she can try and locate him…

As she made her way, she heard the familiar sound of armor clanking and she quickly blended into the shadows.

Templars... well, shit.

If she was careful, she may be able to get pass them without revealing herself, she would just have to take it slow.

So she started to slowly make her way, staying close to the shadows that the large slope made.

“It’s an elf!”

Shit…

“Apostate! Kill her!”

Well, that was her queue to start running! And run she did, with the Templars behind her. Their armor made them slower but unfortunately, because of their training, they were able to keep up with her rather well.

She was jumping along the broken pieces of a bridge when an arrow went pass her. Looking to see where it came from, she saw _more_ Templars! This was _not_ good…

Quickly making the rest of the way to the other side, she began running again, hoping to lose them but she slid to a stop when she saw beautiful black wolves in front of her. Normally, she would admire their beauty, maybe see if she could not gain their trust but at seeing the unnatural glow in their eyes and their vicious snarling at her, she quickly dismissed _that_ idea.

Behind her, Fen’lin heard the yells of the Templars. Shit, she stood there too long but she couldn’t just take off running or the wolves would give chase. Of course, they looked ready to attack from the look of their raised hackles.

Oh look, they are! She rolled out of their way and ran to a tree, quickly climbing the branches as high as she could. That’s when the Templars arrived and the wolves quickly attacked them.

She flinched and covered her ears, closing her eyes tightly, not wanting to hear the wolves be slaughtered. If they were lucky, maybe the wolves caught the Templars off guard.

She wasn’t sure how long it was but she eventually got enough courage to open her eyes and she was relieved to see the wolves were alright. The Templars, however, not so much. These were either smart wolves or something has truly ridden them mad. However, she noticed she had another problem.

The wolves knew she was in the tree, because they were now circling it, growling and licking their bloodied jaws.

Shit…

* * *

 

“Fen’lin! I’m sorry, Fen’lin! Fen’lin!”

Asmodeus has been calling for his daughter for several hours now. He knew she wouldn’t call out to him but at least come back once they both had the chance to cool off! He should have gone after her but instead he helped Mihris and from the way Solas had looked at him, he knew he was going to get a lashing from him.

And a lashing he got but he didn’t expect Cassandra to _defend him_ , agreeing that she had gone too far and accused her of being too reckless. But this had only set Solas off more and if it wasn’t for Varric cutting in and suggesting they go _find_ Fen’lin before something happened to her, Asmodeus was certain the two would continue their argument. Maybe even become violent…

As grateful as he was that Solas seemed to care for Fen’lin, he also found it quite odd…

After they had cleared out all too armored and organized “bandits”, they had found a place where they could set up an Inquisition encampment later. It was a good time for a break anyways, Asmodeus could feel his sickness becoming aggravated.

To his surprise, Solas came up to him, his hands behind his back. “I should apologize for my behavior earlier. It was not my place.”

Sighing, Asmodeus shook his head. “No, you were right to yell at me. Not that I excuse her actions but I should never had slapped her. I should have understood why she acted like she did.”

Solas stood there, studying Asmodeus. He could see the man indeed regret his action and how worried sick he was about Fen’lin. “I will leave you be.” Solas turned to leave him alone but stopped when Asmodeus spoke up, “Before, you had said that with what my clan have done that I should have known better than to side with Mihris. What do you know and how?”

Ah… a slip of the tongue on his part but he at least deserved to know. “I was exploring the Fade when I had found a dream. It was Fen’lin’s.”

“And?” Asmodeus urged him to continue.

Solas looked back at him, “She was dreaming of when a pup was killed before her.”

Perhaps he should not have taken such pleasure in seeing the full body flinch that came from Asmodeus, but after what happened before, he figured it was fine. “Now tell me, why does your clan call her “harellan”? Why tell a child’s mother, in _front_ of the child, that she should have _drowned her at birth?_ ”

Solas watched as Asmodeus turned pale and gaped at him with realization. “You’re a Dreamer…”

“That is not an answer to my questions, Herald.” He saw in his eyes how Asmodeus seemed to be internally debating with himself whether or not to tell him. “We should continue our search,” Cassandra called out to them.

“It seems you have a reprieve. But hear me, Herald. You cannot hide the answers forever.” Solas picked his staff up and left Asmodeus sitting there.

While they searched for Fen’lin, they had found the apostates’ hideout, closed a few Rifts, and found out where the Templars were stationed at. And all the while, Asmodeus kept quiet except for when he would call out for Fen’lin.

“Geez, Chuckles, what did you say to Papa Frostie to make him all quiet?” Solas glanced down at Varric, who was watching Asmodeus with some concern. “I merely asked him some simple questions, nothing more.”

“Well, let’s hope he doesn’t decide to take a page from Stabby’s book,” the dwarf mumbled beside him. For the moment, Solas truly could not care. He just wanted to find Fen’lin before something happened to her.

When they arrived where the Templars were stationed, they were surprised to find so few of them there; they had expected there to be more but they weren’t complaining. Just meant they could take care of them quicker than previous thought.

Once making it across the river, they followed the path where it led them to Templar bodies. “What happened here?” Cassandra questioned, inspecting the corpses.

“It seems they were attacked by wolves,” Solas said after examining a body.

And just as he had said that, black wolves attacked them. Cassandra yelled out in surprise as she brought her shield up to protect herself. Solas threw up barriers on everyone as they defended themselves.

Perhaps it was a good thing Fen’lin was not with them…

“No normal wolf would fight with such determination!” Cassandra stated once the wolves were taken care of.

“The Breach may have driven them mad... or perhaps a demon took command of the pack,” Solas was gazing at the wolves sadly. Poor things…

“Still no sight of Stabby,” Varric was beginning to really worry about her. He hoped nothing bad has happened to her… “Fen’lin is a smart woman. I’m sure she is fine,” Solas said to reassure the dwarf but if he were honest, he was also trying to reassure himself that she was alright. And the longer they went without finding a sign of her, Asmodeus became more reckless from worry and Solas could hear the man starting to wheeze.

“For now, it seems we’ve found where Master Dennet lives. Shall we take care of the commander’s request?” Asmodeus wanted to argue with Solas but he knew it would be for the best, he needed to rest and take the medicine before the wheezing turned into something else.

They followed the path, asking which house belonged to Master Dennet. As they were heading to it, they were surprised when an older woman came up to them… well, to Asmodeus.

“You wouldn’t happen to know a young Dalish woman?” Her question nearly made Asmodeus stop breathing. “Black hair, gold eyes?”

The smile she gave him lifted a weight from him. “Aye, that’s her. Some of the farmers found her running from wolves and fought them off her. Come, she’s inside.” She led him into her home and up to the next floor, and there she was. Sitting on the bed with a leg tucked under her, reading a book, all bandaged up and in a long tunic.

“Fen’lin!” Asmodeus cried out and was at her side instantly, wrapping his arms around her, crying and apologizing profusely

Fen’lin looked startled and so confused but she ended up patting her father on the top of his head rather awkwardly.

“Maker’s breath, Stabby, you had us all worried sick!” Varric went to her side and patted her on the arm, grinning wide. He was glad that she was alright.

She ducked her head and looked at them in apology. When she looked to Solas, he smiled to her, showing his relief that she was safe.

Asmodeus was happy to do a couple of favors for Master Dennet for taking care of his daughter. One of the favors was to deal with the wolves. Fen’lin wouldn’t be able to come along, not only because she refuses to hurt any wolf, but because she apparently had twisted her ankle and she needed to stay off it for it to heal.

Varric volunteered to stay with Fen’lin while they took care of the wolves.

So, while they gone, Varric told her what she had missed. Mainly, the lashing that Solas gave Asmodeus.

“You should have seen it, Stabby! Who knew that Chuckles had such a temper,” Varric laughed and grinned at seeing the small smile gracing her face, “As fun as that was, I would recommend _not_ running off like that again. Not just for your safety, but for our sanity! Especially your father’s. He was really hating himself, you know.”

Fen’lin frowned and nodded. She felt bad for worrying her father like that and knew how childish she had acted.

“But enough of that! I see you’ve been reading one of my books,” Varric smiled when he saw a light in her eyes that he’s never seen.

* * *

 

As the sun began to set, the others returned, and Dennet was kind enough to set them up to stay the night. Everyone was having dinner down below, except for Fen’lin because of her ankle. But when she heard someone coming up the stairs, she looked up her book, and was surprised to see Solas, carrying two plates of food.

“I thought perhaps you would enjoy some company for dinner,” he clarified for her, handing her a plate. She blinked several times as she took the plate and watched Solas sit beside her in a chair to eat his own dinner. She felt her lips twitch as a smile tried to form but she fought it back.

They ate in silence, enjoying each other’s company, which was a strange thing for Fen’lin. Usually, she was alone or was with someone of her family. So this was…new to her.

They finished their meal and Solas took her plate, assuring her he’d be right back, before going down to ground level.

Fen’lin sat there, surprised that he’ll actually return…

And it was not long until he was back, a book of his own in hand. Before he sat back in the chair, he held his hand out to her. She was confused until she saw that he had something laying on his palm. An amulet?

“I found this after we freed the pack from a demon and thought perhaps you would like to have it.”

Fen’lin was hesitant at first but she gently took it from his palm to inspect it. It was… beautiful. The base was molded from some type of blue clay. A grey wolf was howling to the moon, which was a round piece of stormheart metal. Darkened branches surrounded the wolves at the edges and at the bottom were three more pieces of stormheart metal. It was attached to a strong-looking silver chain. At closer inspection, she noticed all four metals were shaved to look like they were stones but there was also something else that made them look… different.

“They are fade-touched,” Solas clarified for her.

She stared at the beautiful amulet. He truly meant for her to have it? She looked at him, clearly confused.

Solas took the amulet and gently swept her hair to the side. He placed it in front of her, letting his fingers brush gently against her skin, and hooked the ends together.

He smiled and took delight at seeing her shiver at his touch…

Fen’lin looked down at the amulet that now lay on her breast before looking up at Solas, who was smiling at her. “It is yours.”

Before she could stop them, tears started to roll down her face. She covered her mouth with her hand, startled by the sudden tears. Solas was immediately beside her, a look of concern on his face. “Why do you cry?”

She could only shake her head. No one, other than her parents and brothers, has ever given her anything as a gift before. She felt overwhelmed by all the different emotions she was feeling.

Solas gasped as Fen’lin suddenly wrapped her arms around him. At first, he could only stare down at her in surprise, startled by her action, but once he relaxed, he returned her embrace.

_“She is not sad. She is happy, perhaps even overwhelmed. She should not have to be…”_

Once Fen’lin regained control of herself, she pulled back from him with a sniffle. She could feel her cheeks warm with a blush, either from crying or embarrassment from how she acted, she wasn’t sure. But when Solas cupped her face in his hands and gently wiped her tears away with his thumbs, she knew the reason why her cheeks became much warmer this time.

“It’s time for you to rest now. We will be leaving for Haven in the morning and Master Dennet has given us a horse to make travel easier for you.” Solas removed his hands from her and returned to the chair beside the bed. Fen’lin watched him as he opened his book to read. Finally, she laid down to sleep.

Once he was sure she was asleep, Solas lowered his book.

When he had moved her hair from her neck, her had seen something on her back. He wasn’t able to make it out, only able to see a bit of the top, but it was neither a scar nor burn. It was light brown in color, noticeable on her milky pale skin. A birthmark, perhaps? If he did not deem it inappropriate, he would remove her shirt to see the rest, just so he could sate his curiosity.

But for now, he intends to read before he drifts off into the Fade.

* * *

 

_She stood in front of the river, a knife in her small hand._

_She stared down at her reflection, at her marked face._

_Too young to have it, but it wasn’t her choice._

_Forced._

_A prayer to Dirthamen, to keep her a secret from other clans._

_A prayer made with wolf’s blood._

_She hated it._

_Hated_ them _._

_Hated herself…_

_But all this pain will be over soon._

* * *

 

Fen’lin woke with a sudden jolt, something having startled her from her sleep.

It’s been two days since they arrived back at Haven; her father has been busy being prepared to confront the clerics condemning the Inquisition.

She did _not_ like the idea of her father going; she’d be more comfortable with this decision if she were going with but Solas had recommended she stay off her ankle for a few more days.

Thanks to Solas’ magic, it was healing quicker than it would have, but not quickly enough for her liking.

Once the fog of sleep cleared from her mind, Fen’lin sat up from her makeshift bed of furs as she heard a commotion outside. What was going on? Grabbing hold of her temporary wooden crutch, she hoisted herself up and made for the cabin’s door. She nearly fell when said door suddenly swung open!

“Maker’s breath! What are you doing up? No, doesn’t matter. Fen’lin, they’re here!” Asmodeus’ excitement confused her. He was out of breath as well.

Seeing this confusion, her father laughed, “Your mother and brothers, da’fen! They are _here!_ ”

Fen’lin’s eyes widened at hearing this and a bright smile broke out. With her father’s help, they made it outside and to the courtyard, where they saw them.

Her mother, Velara Lavellan, dressed in her old hunter’s gear, green and red. Her blonde hair pulled to the right with few braids, her green eyes shining as she spoke with Cassandra, a smile on her pink lips. The golden branches of Mythal was almost transparent on her mother’s skin, a scar on her left brow.

She was being supported by one of her two brothers, Falon Lavellan.

He wore his deep blue and gold Dalish robes that their mother had woven for him, his snow white hair partially pulled back with the rest blowing freely in the window. It blended in with the snow, as did his pale skin, though he was not as pale as her. His bright green eyes was studying the Seeker with a look of interest. The black curves of Falon’din’s Vallaslin melded well with his features, as did the scar on his upper lip.

Behind them stood her other brother and Falon’s twin, Dirth Lavellan.

He wore his usual Dalish armor, the green worn down to an almost light brown, his arms crossed against his chest and a typical scowl on his lips. His black hair was long but shaved close to his scalp on the left. His blue eyes shone with distrust. Dirthamen’s Vallaslin shone on his tan skin, though it was closer to grey than it once was. He had many scars marring his face, all old.

Cassandra motioned to Asmodeus and Fen’lin once she noticed them; this caught Velara’s attention and her expression brightened as her eyes laid upon her family.

“Vhenan!” Velara cried out with joy, tears forming in her eyes. Once Asmodeus was sure Fen’lin would be fine, he quickly rushed to his wife’s side. He picked her up and spun her, laughing happily, before letting her feet touch the ground and kissing her. There was such passion that Cassandra had turned away to give them privacy, a blush gracing her cheeks.

Her brothers must have agreed with Cassandra, as they were beside Fen’lin and Dirth had placed his hand on top of her head… to roughly grind his palm into her scalp.

“What in the Creators’ name have you been up to?!” How typical of Dirth, showing his concern with aggression. Before Falon could step in, Fen’lin smacked her brother in the leg with her crutch, making him yelp and step back.

With a sigh and smile, Falon laid his hand on his twin’s shoulder, “Atish, ma’taron. Our sister is alive and well.” His only answer was a scoff.

“Well! So, this is what the commotion is all about!” Fen’lin looked behind herself to see Varric coming to stand beside her, Solas standing further back. “I assume these gentlemen are your mysterious brothers, Stabby?”

“ _Stabby_?” Dirth growled, glaring down at the dwarf. Falon could only sigh at his brother’s aggression. “Do not be rude, Dirth,” he scolded his twin before facing Varric, “Aneth ara. You must be Varric Tethras from father’s letter. My name is Falon and this is my twin, Dirth. And thank you for the care of our father and sister.”

“Maker’s breath, his manners make my teeth ache,” Varric mumbled from beside her, making Fen’lin smile slightly, much to her brothers’ surprise.

“And who’s the fla—erm, the… man behind you?” Dirth quickly corrected himself from the way his sister glared at him. “Oh, come on, Chuckles! Stop being so antisocial, this is Stabby and Papa Frostie’s family!” With the way Fen’lin turned her gaze to him, her golden eyes seeming to be begging for his presence (ah, and now his treacherous mind is going down a different path, lovely), Solas felt obliged to come down and greet her brothers, “Andaran atish’an.”

As his name suggests, Falon was quite friendly, “Solas, yes? Father’s letter spoke highly of you and of your care for Fen’lin. Ma Serannas, ma’ni.” This completely threw Solas off. He was expecting hostility, more akin to the way Dirth is glaring at him with distrust and suspicion.

“This is Solas and Varric Tethras.” Asmodeus finally joined them, Velara at his side and holding his arm for support, and Cassandra beside her. “Solas. Varric. This is my beloved wife and mother to my children, Velara.”

With a pat to her husband’s arm, she carefully came to Varric and hugged the dwarf. His startled expression was amusing, until Solas found himself being given the same treatment!

“Thank you, both of you, for looking out for my husband and my little girl!”

She released him and went to Fen’lin, fussing about her ankle. Both Varric and Solas looked to Asmodeus, who was laughing at their shocked expression. “Fear not! Cassandra apparently got the same treatment from her!” Cassandra huffed and looked away, a blush staining her cheeks.

“Solas, could you led me a hand with getting my daughter back to bed?” Velara’s request surprised Solas. Why not ask one of her sons? But he complied and gently laid his hands on Fen’lin’s arms. “Come, da’len. You should be resting.” She huffed, looking annoyed, but nodded in agreement.

This surprised Velara, at first, but then she smiled brightly. It eased her heart to see her little girl close to another elf.

She followed them to a cabin and she smiled at seeing the makeshift bed of furs in the corner. She watched as Solas was gentle with Fen’lin, helping her back into bed, and stacking some furs to elevate her ankle. He seemed to care greatly for her…

Velara sat beside Fen’lin, gently stroking her daughter’s hair, before speaking up. “Asmodeus told me that you have been using spirit magic to help the healing process. How long until she’s allowed to walk?”

“Just for a few more days,” he said, smiling at the look of irritation from Fen’lin. Her mother smiled and kissed her daughter’s forehead, “Hamin, ma da’fen.” Velara stood and gestured Solas to follow her outside.

Once he was sure Fen’lin was comfortable, he followed her. Turning to face him, Velara smiled brightly up to him. “Thank you so much, Solas, for the care and kindness you have shown Fen’lin. It means so much, not just to me, but to Asmodeus as well.”

Solas was not sure how to handle this. They should not be thanking him, as he has done nothing worth of such. “I’m afraid I do not understand,” he admitted.

Velara nodded, understanding his confusion. “How much do you know about my clan?” She watched him closely as his tried to put up a mask. Placing his hands behind his back, he answered, “I know how they treat her. I saw her dreams. How a little girl’s spirit was crushed by the cruel act of killing a wolf pup before her. How she is called “harellan” by them and that your Keeper wanted you to drown her at birth.”

Tears formed in Velara’s eyes, thinking of that day. “Yes… that day, I could not protect my little girl. It is something I will always regret.”

“But why? Why do they treat her like this? I have asked your husband but he has refused to say. I cannot ask Fen’lin, for she does not speak.” At his words, he saw Velara flinch and her tears flowed freely down her face.

“Alright… I’ll tell you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cliffhanger! So to speak...
> 
> I've noticed how slow the pace of events are and I apologize for that. I'm going to try and speed them up.
> 
> Also, if anyone has any suggestions for nicknames that Varric can give Velara and the twins, I'd love to hear them! I have an idea for Dirth but not sure if I like it.
> 
> But next chapter, Velara will explain all... maybe ;)
> 
> Edit: I totally forgot but if anyone was curious on how the amulet looked, I got the inspiration from this https://i.etsystatic.com/11618390/r/il/5d2a48/1023186446/il_570xN.1023186446_bnv1.jpg


	7. Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAARGH!! I finally got this chapter dooone!
> 
> So sorry for how long this one took! I ended up with some writer's block, which is common for me TT.TT but I also got a new job! \^.^/ yay~ but this will most likely make me even slower ;_;
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter! And thanks so much for all the kudos~ ^o^
> 
> Any and all Elvish will be from https://lingojam.com/ElvenDAI & the DAI Elven Language wiki

It’s almost been two weeks since Asmodeus had left for Val Royeaux with Cassandra and Varric. Asmodeus’ son, Falon, had gone with them as Solas had opted to stay behind; he wanted to make sure Fen’lin actually _rested_ while her ankle healed, the stubborn girl.

A quiet grumble to his right took away his attention from the book he was reading; the young Dalish was still fast asleep in her bed of furs, curled up in a protective ball, her back to him. She was allowed to walk again, carefully and slowly, and to not _climb any roofs or trees_.

But with her back to him, he was able to see a small portion of the top half of the birthmark on her back. From what Velara was able to tell him before Asmodeus had interrupted, it was the major cause of her clan’s abuse…

~*~

_Velara held the cup of tea in her hands, letting the heat warm them; Solas sat across from her at the table in his cabin, waiting for her to speak._

_She had suggested they speak in private, not wishing to be overheard._

_After taking a sip of her tea, she set the cup onto the table, folding her hands in her lap, “First, you must know my clan’s… beliefs.”_

_She looked at him in surprise as he chuckled with a bitterness she was not expecting. “I_ know _the ‘beliefs’ of the Dalish,” he had started to say, but stopped when Velara had raised a hand to him._

 _“Yes, but clan Lavellan is_ different _from other clans. More… prophetic, I suppose you could call it.”_

_Solas frowned at hearing this. Prophetic?_

_“My clan… they are very superstitious and fear the Dread Wolf greatly, more so than any other clan. It comes from many years ago, from a Keeper who was born from another clan… they claim he had a vision, a prophetic dream. It was because of this that my clan became who they are today.”_

_Solas remained silent as Velara took another sip of tea before she continued, “As you know, clans keep statues of Fen’harel at the far edges of where we set up. My clan, however, keeps ours much, much farther away. Out of sight. And we…_ they _actively seek out any wolf packs and they—”_

_“Slaughter the pack.”_

_Velara looked ashamed from his words before she spoke up, “Yes.”_

_She jumped as Solas suddenly stood up and started pacing, clearly frustrated and annoyed. “I have already gathered as much from what I have seen,” he stopped his pacing to turn to Velara, “This does not explain the abuse Fen’lin has suffered!”_

_He was taken aback by the smile Velara gave him; she almost looked_ relieved _at his anger, which is only making him more frustrated. “Please, Solas… sit.”_

_Solas had to keep himself from scowling at her; she did not deserve his anger. After taking a breath, he did as she asked. “Ir abelas.”_

_Laughing, she said, “You have nothing to apologize for, Solas! It gladdens me that you care so deeply for my daughter.”_

_He let out a heavy sigh, letting his anger drain from him. “Tell me more of this supposed vision.”_

_He watched her closely as she drank more of her tea; she was clearly trying to keep from losing her nerve. Was this_ “vision” _the reason for Fen’lin’s abuse? If so, why? What did a young child do to deserve such treatment?!_

_“My grandmother told me this story, having been told by her own grandmother,” Velara said, setting her cup back onto the table, but she did not let it go, “Twas in the dead of night, the people asleep in their Aravel, when a horrid scream broke the silence. The people awoke from their dreams, fear clutching their hearts.”_

_“It was then that the Keeper came running out of his Aravel, clutching his head as if in agony as he screamed and cried. The clan’s First and the hunters surrounded their Keeper, afraid he had become possessed by a demon; once the First knew that the Keeper was not possessed, he asked what had frightened him so.”_

_“The Keeper grabbed him and, staring into the eyes of his First, said, ‘Death and destruction! The Dread Wolf will awaken, years after our time!’ And with those haunting words, the Keeper died.”_

_“The First became the new Keeper of the clan and, taking his mentor’s words to heart, transformed the clan into who they are today.”_

_Solas was silent as he absorbed Velara’s words. A ridiculous story, truly. “He must have crossed paths with a spirit that had twisted itself to his expectation from the stories of the Dread Wolf still stalking the Fade.”_

_To his surprise, Velara laughed; but it wasn’t from mocking him. It was one of delight. “Yes, that is what Asmodeus had said after I had told him the tale! Creators, I had been aghast by his words. Though I suppose I shouldn’t have been, as he was not born Dalish.”_

_Now this surprised him and he had no problems showing it, “Asmodeus was not born into a clan?”_

_“No, he was not. I had actually found him when I was out on a hunt, collapsed in the forest; he was covered in blood and dirt, with a horrible wheeze and cough. I brought him back to where our camp was and he was eventually adopted into our clan; not long after, he was made the Keeper’s First."_

_"It was because of Asmodeus that my… superstitions have since changed. If they had not— if I had not changed, my darling little girl would not be here today.”_

_Solas felt every muscle in him tense at hearing her words and felt his temper once again rising, but he did not lash out. No, he could see that the very thought of what could have been disgusts and shames Velara._

_Still though, his temper did eventually win, “And this… the abuse she has suffered, is because of a delusional mage’s words! Why? Merely because of the color of her eyes?!”_

_The look of surprise and… confusion from the Dalish woman stopped Solas in the middle of his rage, and when did he stand up from his chair?_

_“Her eyes? No, they were merely used as another excuse to hurt my child. Have you not seen it? The birthmark on her back. It’s—”_

~*~

Ever since their conversation, after Asmodeus had walked in and cut his bonded off before she could tell him more, Solas had been unable to converse further with Velara. This was because of Dirth, who seems to have made it his personal mission to keep Solas as far from his family as possible.

This is why Fen’lin was now sleeping in his cabin. Apparently, the two siblings had an argument… at least, a one-sided argument, as she had not uttered a word. But Dirth’s booming voice carried over through the small town of Haven, having no issues in announcing his obvious distrust of Solas.

But it was settled once Fen’lin had _punched_ her older brother across the face! Next thing Solas knew, she had made herself a bed of furs in a corner of his cabin and that’s where she has been for nearly an entire week.

With a heavy sigh, Solas closed the book, setting it on the nearby table and stood from his chair. Kneeling beside Fen’lin’s sleeping form, her watched her. It would be so easy to lift the back of her tunic, to see why this birthmark had apparently made her clan think she was connected to his awakening from Uthenera…

But he would not do that, not to her…

Instead, Solas laid a hand on her arm (she was so small, yet so strong) and gently shook her. “Fen’lin, it is nearly noon. Will you sleep the day away?” He smiled as she made a soft noise and she turned in his direction, her eyes only partially open due to sleepiness, and merely stared up at him.

She looked so innocent like this; her hair was a mess from sleep, her eyes barely able to stay open…

A sudden knock at his cabin’s door brought Solas out of his thoughts and made Fen’lin jump, now looking more awake. She sat up and stretched while he went to open the door; to his surprise, it was Velara and a very upset Dirth (though _that_ was certainly nothing new).

“Aneth ara, Velara. It has been a while since we last spoke,” Solas said, giving Dirth a pointed look, to which he received an angry scowl in return.

Velara smiled kindly to Solas, ignoring her son’s rude attitude. “Yes, it has been, thanks to my stubborn son.” Dirth went to defend himself, but quickly shut his mouth from the scolding look from his mother.

Solas kept his amusement at this to himself, merely stepping aside to let them in. Velara immediately went to Fen’lin and fussed about her, using her slender fingers to fix her daughter’s mused hair; this resulted in the young Dalish trying to swat her mother’s hands away, but she really did not put much effort into it.

“Still in bed at this hour, fenorain? You missed breakfast, which is not healthy! You are still so young.” Solas could not help but chuckle quietly at how Velara softly scolded her daughter, who quit her lazy attempts to swat her mother’s hands away; now she just sat there, pouting.

It was adorable…

“You find that funny, flat ear?” The sneer from Dirth immediately got a reaction, but not from Solas (which he’s sure was what the _boy_ wanted).

No, the reaction he got was an angry one from Fen’lin; she had stood up from her bed and marched over to her brother, and violently shoved him. It forced the elf to stumble back, caught off guard by her sudden action.

“Dirth Lavellan! That is _not_ how you were raised to speak!” Velara was very unhappy with her son’s attitude. She could not understand why he continued to treat Solas with such disrespect!

Solas was the only one not to react; he merely stared down at the _boy_ , who was shorter than he was. He could see that his lack of reaction irritated Dirth greatly. “It is quite alright. The words from a mere immature boy is hardly anything of worth.”

Solas merely stood with his hands behind his back as Dirth grabbed hold of his shirt, pulling him roughly towards him. “What did you say, old man?!”

The sudden tight grip around his wrist gave Dirth pause. He looked down at his sister, glaring at him with a fierce protectiveness he’s never seen from her. But why? She knows nothing about this mage! She has never trusted anybody outside of their parents, Falon, and himself; it didn’t matter if someone was Dalish or not. So _why_ does she trust a complete stranger?!

With a scoff, Dirth let Solas go and stormed out of the cabin. “Dirth!” Velara called out to him, but he was already gone.

Solas looked down to Fen’lin as she gazed up at him sadly, a deep frown on her lips. Her brother’s actions were upsetting, something Solas found himself unable to forgive Dirth for.

Smiling down to the young Dalish, he set his hands gently onto her shoulders. “Tel’enfenim, da’len. It will be alright.” His words seemed to comfort her, as the tension in her shoulders left and she graced him with one of her rare small smiles.

 

* * *

 

She has had _enough_ of the Sword Coast and its constant raining! And she’s had it with Dirth and Solas _both!_

Dirth with his scowls and yelling, and his stupid overprotectiveness; and Solas with his constant baiting of Dirth, which just makes it all the more annoying! At first, it was amusing, but now she was ready to shoot them both full of arrows!

Then there was the Qunari, Iron Bull…

Asmodeus has told them so many stories of the Qunari, so it was kind of exciting to finally meet one. And her father was not kidding when he had said how massive they were!

And right now, the Qunari was the only one she was not ready to maim with arrows; he even made a joke out of the constant bickering, which she rather appreciated.

Right now, they were at a newly set up Inquisition camp. They had to avoid a _Giant_ and a Rift, but by doing so, they found Scout Harding’s missing scouts’ bodies and who the culprits were. Thanks to Iron Bull’s suggestion, they found materials to make an amulet that they could use to challenge these Blades of Hessarian’s leader.

Which turned out great for them, as they were now agents for the Inquisition, able to keep eyes on the Storm Coast.

Fen’lin let out a heavy sigh as she was finally in dry clothes. Her thighs were red and angry from chafing because of her soaked leathers, so she was looking forward to lying down.

“So, I guess you’ve got those two in the dog house,” the deep voice of Iron Bull startled Fen’lin, nearly making her lose her footing and fall. His booming laughter filled the tent as he came in, taking a large swab of cloth out of his back to dry himself off. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare ya, kiddo!”

She merely blinked at him. He was not what she was expecting from a Qunari; her father has always said how grumpy and serious they were. But not this man; no, he was cheerful and friendly. Like a giant Varric… with horns…

“So, Dirth, right? What’s his problem with Solas?” Iron Bull’s words had her rolling her eyes before she went to set up her bedroll. A grunt from the Qunari had her looking back at him though. “Right, you can’t talk.” She frowned at this. It wasn’t like she _couldn’t_ talk. She just… stopped.

Once she had her bedroll set up, she turned to the large man. The tent they occupied was quite large but the Qunari was still having a rough time moving around, thanks to his horns. He kept himself bent so his horns wouldn’t rip through the tent’s fabric, but this made maneuvering rougher on him. So, seeing this, she went and helped him get his bedroll set up. This, for some reason, made the Qunari laugh, which confused her. Why did this make him laugh?

“Heh, thanks, kid. Tent’s a little smaller than I’m used to,” Iron Bull said. Fen’lin was still confused but she brushed it off, simply nodding to him before going back to her own bedroll and laying down. At least he seemed more comfortable now that he was sitting; but apparently, the Qunari was not done trying to converse, “So, your brother…”

Fen’lin huffed at this; why was he still talking about this? But still, she sat up and turned to him, gesturing for him to continue. “I’m guessing your brother doesn’t like that an older man like Solas is showing such an interest in his baby sister, which is why he’s being such an ass.”

Wait, what?

Showing in— no, that can’t be right. Solas merely sees her as a child, with his constant “da’len”. And Dirth… she knows why her brother is acting like he is, as annoying as it is. He’s just being an overprotective big brother.

Apparently, the confusion on her face amused Iron Bull, as he was now smirking and chuckling. “No? You think it’s something else?” The Qunari’s grin widened when Fen’lin nodded with a look of determination and assurance, “So, the way Solas took hold of your jaw before, checking you over for injuries, using such a gentle touch isn’t being interested… or how about the panic in his voice when that spider jumped and bit you? Sure, your brother had the same panic, but with Solas… it was different. You could hear it in the pitch of his voice, see it in his body language, the way he cast that spell at the spider; but you’re thinking that he’s not interested?”

He…

What…

This was insane! What he was saying was _insane_! There’s no way someone like Solas would have any interest in someone like her! He was… he was just being kind…

“Well, let’s get some rest!” the cheerful way Iron Bull said this was enough to make Fen’lin throw one of her leather arm guards at him. The Qunari bellowed with laughter as he caught it, grinning at her, “Hey, thanks. I’ve been meaning to ask if I could see one of these pieces, seeing as how it kept that spider’s fangs from penetrating your skin!”

This merely made Fen’lin more frustrated, a loud huff coming from her as she settled down into her bed roll. But late into the night, Fen’lin sound herself unable to sleep and it wasn’t because of Iron Bull’s atrocious snoring.

No, it was because of Iron Bull’s words.

She couldn’t stop thinking of what he said and kept going over everything in her head. Ever since that night, when those humans tried to kill her father in his rest… Solas was there— wait, no, he was there before that even; when the Pride Demon had launched her into that stonewall and she had momentarily blacked out. When she regained consciousness, Solas was there.

The more she thought on this, the more flustered she became. She’s never… a _man_ has never…

She was never going to get any sleep…

 

* * *

 

The memories here were quite interesting; mostly of battles, which were his favorites.

But what truly drew his attention was the dream; it rippled across the Fade with such a rage, he was surprised that it has not drawn any spirits. Perhaps the heat of the rage kept them at bay?

Intrigued, Solas entered and was once again greeted by a forest, but it was dark and the sounds of angry voices reached his ears immediately. Keeping out of sight, he made his way towards the voices until a familiar voice reached him, “You fucking bastards! Let Fen’lin go!”

It was Dirth and the mention of Fen’lin had Solas break out into a run. He arrived at a clearing, a river nearby, and there he saw five Dalish. Two were pinning Dirth down, his arms twisted behind his back; two more held onto Fen’lin, who was struggling to free herself from them. The fifth Dalish stood in front of Fen’lin, a knife in one hand and a lit torch in another.

Solas noticed Fen’lin’s face was marked with Dirthamen’s Vallaslin, she did not have the burn scar, and her hair was cut short and messy. That’s when he noticed the large chunks of midnight black hair around the feet of the three Dalish men and Fen’lin. Solas felt the beginnings of rage building up inside him as he realized that the Dalish with the knife had forcefully cut her hair, as if to dehumanize her!

Said Dalish scowled at Dirth and, striding quickly up to the man, kicked him in the face. The action made Fen’lin struggle more viciously against her two captors, but was stopped when one rammed his fist into her stomach.

“She is a stain to the Dalish! A curse to our clan!” the Dalish spat before returning to Fen’lin. Despite having her breath knocked out of her, she glared viciously at the man, her golden eyes glowing from the light of the flaming torch. He sneered at her and used the knife to slice her left cheek, but he frowned in displeasure when she did not flinch; she merely scrunched her nose from the pain.

“Force the bitch to her knees!” One of her captors kicked at her knee, forcing her to crumble to the ground; the way Dirth roared with rage would make a bear jealous. The Dalish dropped the knife to the ground and gripped the torch with both of his hands and said four words that had bile immediately rise into Solas’ throat, “Hold her head back.”

Fen’lin hissed as one of her captors grabbed the back of her chopped hair and forcefully pulled her head back, so that she was looking up at the Dalish above her.

And he brought the flaming torch down onto the left side of her face with a strong force; Dirth’s scream of fear and rage echoed across the forest, startling the birds.

Over and over, the Dalish hit her with the torch, the smell of burning flesh and blood nearly making Solas gag. But to his amazement, Fen’lin did not scream; not one sound escaped her. She merely grit her teeth and took the assault.

But the longer she stayed silent, the more vicious the Dalish hit her until finally, the flames on the torch died out. His shoulders slumped as he panted and nodded to the two Dalish to release her, where she fell and stayed.

The three Dalish turned in shock as Dirth suddenly let out a roar of pure rage and hatred; his two captors yelled in shock as he managed to break free of their grasp. That’s when the three Dalish men jumped him and soon enough, the other two joined in. But Dirth fought them, despite the odds against him.

Eventually, the five men had Dirth knocked to the ground and wailed on him with kicks and their fists, until he no longer fought against them.

The leader of the group scowled at Dirth and kicked him in the ribs. “May this be a lesson to you, your family, and the Dread Wolf’s _bitch!_ Clan Lavellan are the warriors against Fen’harel and when the day he awakens comes, we _will_ mount his head on a pike! Along with the head of his bitch!”

And with those words, the five men finally left; the only sound in the clearing was Dirth’s ragged breath. The man struggled to stand up and when that failed, he crawled to Fen’lin’s side. Once there, he rolled her onto her back and a cry of anguish left him.

The left side of her face was charred black and bloodied, and she was not moving. Dirth gathered her into his arms as he wept, apologizing to her over and over.

“Dirth!? Fen’lin?!” a voice cried out from the darkness, a voice Dirth recognized. “Falon!!” the cry of anguish and panic had the warrior’s twin running to him, a cry of horror at seeing the state both of his siblings were in coming from him.

“Please, please heal her!” Dirth begged and Falon wasted no time, kneeling beside them and quickly using his healing magic.

Solas could tell that Falon must have been new to healing magic as the process was slow. Eventually he had to stop, exhausted; the black pieces of flesh were gone, but still bled. Falon grunted in frustration, clearly displeased with himself.

“Let’s get her to mother and father, and quickly,” Falon said and the twins, even though Dirth was clearly struggling to keep himself standing, carefully started carrying her back to their Aravel.

 

* * *

 

Solas forced himself to wake up; he just couldn’t watch anymore. Dirth remained asleep on the other side of their shared tent, which was probably for the best, but Solas had to get out. The air felt stifling and he just couldn’t breathe.

He stumbled out of the tent, the cold rain a welcomed blessing; the Inquisition solders that were there greeted him and he managed to reply in kind, but he still had to get further away. As not to seem overly eager and suspicious, he was careful with his steps, until he was further away; once he was out of sight, he fell to his hands and knees and started to retch.

The image of Fen’lin being beaten and then just lying there, unmoving… He could still smell the scent of her blood and charred flesh. He could _taste_ it.

Eventually, he emptied his stomach and he rolled away from his mess, panting. He closed his eyes, leaning back against a tree, letting the rain pelt him and cool his skin. Now, he felt, he understood the reason behind Dirth’s aggression toward him; he certainly respected the boy— _man_ more.

It had just been a dream, a _memory_ , but it has been a very long time since he had felt such _hate_ and want for bloodshed. He had wanted to change into the Wolf, to rip them apart with fangs and claws, to taste their _blood_ on his tongue; Solas scowled as he thought of the last words of the Dalish male.

Clan Lavellan, warriors against _him_? Please… they were nothing more than children, throwing a temper tantrum when something does not go _their_ way! And he called Fen’lin his “bitch”, a derogatory word for his mate—

Mate? No… no, he will not, _cannot_ do that to her. He will only end up hurting her in the end and she has suffered enough. He will not add to it…

A twig snapping nearby has him immediately alert, a spell ready to destroy whoever was foolish enough to—

Fen’lin… what was she doing up?

She merely stood there, not caring that she was as soaked to the bone as he was from the rain; her long hair _(he could_ see _where it was uneven now)_ flat and clinging to her face. Her nigh shirt clung tightly to her lithe frame, the long sleeve hanging heavily on her arms. Her legs were _bare_ , no breeches or leathers to hide them. There were small scars here and there among them.

Solas had to force his eyes back to her golden gaze, to keep his mind from wandering to _dangerous thoughts_.

“Are you alright, da’len? Why are you not asleep?” He stared at her curiously as she frowned at him, a thoughtful look on her face. It made him wonder what she was thinking about and found himself wishing that he could hear her voice; to hear the voice of the woman she is now.

Fen’lin’s movement brought his attention back to her. He felt his heart shutter in his chest as she kneeled between his legs, not caring about the twigs and rocks digging into her bare knees. She merely stared up at him, still with that thoughtful look.

Solas didn’t move, did not _dare_ to. He wanted to see what her next move would be, to see what this precious creature would do. He did not, however, expect her to gently cup his jaw between her hands. He could feel callouses on her fingertips, the signs of her being an expert markswoman. But even with that, they were _soft_ , unlike his rough ones from his long years of yielding a staff.

Then Fen’lin moved again, towards him, and he felt himself stop breathing. What was she— ah, she’s leaning against his chest, curling up, an ear pressed to where his heart is. She closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat, and Solas found himself wrapping her up in his arms.

And found himself wanting to _protect_ Fen’lin; shield her from the cruelty of this muted world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From my meager understanding of the Elven language:
> 
> Tel'enfenim = do not fear  
> Fenorain = darling


End file.
